2 weeks to go

As I am writing this, it is Tuesday December 18th. Two weeks from now, I’ll be starting on a one year journey to maybe actually publishing a book. I hope. (foul language ahead, proceed at your own peril)

At face value, compared to NaNoWriMo, the writing portion should be a cakewalk. The 60 additional days, and lower per diem word count needed to finish on time should add some flexibility.

However, it is what comes next that intimidates me. Editing and preparing the book for “publishing”. That is the challenge. I am notoriously bad about “finishing” projects. There, I said it. I get frustrated, or distracted. Either way, the project goes on the back burner. “I’ll just work on something else for a few days” is the kiss of death for one of my works in progress.

And then there is the dreaded, viscous “self doubt bunny of doom”. That little voice in the back of my brain. The one that says “Give up. This sucks. Nobody wants to read this trash. Just look at all the tropes and cliches you used.”

But there is a secret weapon that can vanquish the self doubt bunny of doom. If spoken with conviction, these magic words will splatter that dang bunny across the landscape. But it is a weapon to be used with temperance and only at the proper moment. Those secret words? Fuck It.

Fuck it. What a wonderful phrase. Fuck it. Ain’t no passing craze…. Sorry had a bit of a moment there.

The liberation that goes along with ignoring self doubt is indescribable. The self doubt will still be there. But we tell that bitch to sit down and shut up. Because we have more important things to do than listen to stupid metaphorical bunnies that only exist in our heads.

Because, what is the absolute worst thing that can happen? If caution is thrown to the wind, yet failure strikes… I wont be publishing a book next year. If I allow the bunnies to rule the world, I wont be publishing a book next year.

BUT if I throw caution to the wind and succeed? Then this time next year, I’ll be a published author. With millions of adoring fans begging me for autographs. And a fleet of super cars. And a yacht. OK, maybe that is getting a little ahead of myself. But hey, I’ll take just having a published book. 

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