About How Good and Quilting

Post 1585:

The last few years of writing have been hard. I never thought I’d have any problems pushing out stories. I was lucky, I always said. It’s not fear of the blank page or a lack of ideas—nah, that’s never been a worry for me the way it is for some.

My problem, and I hate to say it, is being scared of the end. I don’t like sending something off to publish. Why? Well, I’ve worked on it this much, so who’s to say this is the proper final product?

The bottom line: The work, no matter how good, can always be closer to perfect, and yet it can never be perfect. What a crap situation. It drives me nuts. More so lately.

Writers write for different reasons. Some want recognition more than mastery, some the opposite. It’s usually a combination of the two. Okay, so how do you decide?

In a lot of cases, someone else decides for you. It’s probably an enervating luxury to have time to sit on my brains going over stuff line-by-line until my eyes droop.

Like a lot of people that put out their own work, I’m guessing, the only deadline is how long can you stand staring at the same project. For me, it’s hard to let go. I mean, each thing could be the really good one.

There are obviously bigger problems in life and I try not to get too much in my own head. But sometimes you can’t help what you care about. Kinda sucks. I knew I should’ve taken up quilting. But I’d probably be a fastidious asshole about that too. My quilt will be ready when I say it’s ready!

I think that’s it. Quilting invocations are generally thought to be last stop on the road to insanity tour. I’m gonna go snuggle up. Cheers and see you after.