I have a closed-in backyard. I have high ambitions for my garden. I try to improve it just a little each year, but it's slow going. But eventually, I may have both the design and the plants in place, all flourishing, all looking good.
And no one will ever know except me and my family and a few friends.
Because it's a closed-in backyard. And yet, I don't doubt I want to do it. I don't doubt that it has value. Every spring I get excited about improving the garden, and it fades during the spring and summer, becomes hard work, so that by fall I'm always asking why I bother?
Writing books is a lot like this to me. It's possible no one will ever see what I do. But I still get excited at the beginning of every project, which slowly wears off as the problems mount, until I ask myself why I bother?
Writing and gardening are long-term projects. They can seem overwhelming and insurmountable sometimes. Sometimes they are a hard slog. But they have their little joys interspersed.
I also see the store as a parallel. The big difference -- which I noted right away after buying the store 29 years ago -- is that whatever creative decisions I make have an immediate impact.
Then again, the overall impact -- the making of a living wage -- was a long-term project that seemed overwhelming and insurmountable and often I asked myself why I bother?
All these doubts have come to the fore with Sometimes a Dragon. I ask myself whether I should try to improve the book or could improve the book. It seems overwhelming and insurmountable. Why bother?
Like the store -- like the garden -- I just have to do the work, and hope the rest follows. Just keep writing and trying to improve and look for opportunities. For instance, a tweet mentioned that a horror publisher was taking open submissions, so I sent them Death of an Immortal. Why not?
I don't expect them to take it, but it doesn't hurt to try.
I just have to keep working on the garden every year -- I'm probably a decade away from having something that might be worth bragging about.
I just have to keep working on my books -- and I may be a decade away from having something worth bragging about.
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1 comment:
it's like realizing our dream to have a garden at the backyard, isn't it ?
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