What is it called when…
Maybe. Most probably. Definitely.
Almost a year ago i finished the first draft of my book. It’s still sitting on the shelf waiting to be edited. Okay i saw this as a gargantuan task. I mean, i’ve never edited anything other then short films before. And maybe a blog or two. But never a five-hundred page novel. I had no idea where to begin.
I guess taking so long was good in that i now know what i want to change. But it’s still sitting on its little shelf. Waiting. Why the fuck can’t i just get on with it?
Maybe, in some psychological way i don’t want to do it. Yet i hate my job and see being a professional author as a way out. It’s not like i have a shortage of ideas (30+).
You’d think i was perfect. I mean i have a beard, i like to drink, and i hate commuting to work. So, why haven’t i even started to edit this thing?
Laziness. Fear of rejection. Or what a friends calls, “institutionalised“.
I came home from work, i eat, i shower, and i sit in front of the TV and watch reruns of various shows on Dave (Sky 111). Then at work the next day i complain/procrastinate about not being able to get the book edited and that i’ll be stuck in this dead end job (retail security) forever.
That i’m not good enough. Though i’m constantly being told i am good. But i’m i, publisher, good enough? Yes i understand that rejection is all part of the business of writing. And that i should expected it. And accept it. Which i can. I know i can. But…
Where you set in your way. You might hate your job, but it’s easy. A trained monkey could do it easy. And so you just continue because it’s an easy pay check each month. You always know it’ll be there. So you just get on with it.
One, two, or all three..?
Plan A has fallen through.
Then it’s on to plan B.