It’s very hard for me to devote large chunks of my time to writing my WIP because I have little stacks and stashes of books waiting to be read. And they whisper to me.
There are old favourites on my bookshelf, new ones on my bedside table, and one in my car.
Read me now.
We’re so much better than that thing you are scratching at. It’s all misshapen and unwieldy. You keep trimming, changing and polishing… come here, come look at us… we are polished… we are finished.
I love books. I love reading. But those finished books are a little intimidating, who am I to dare think I am capable of creating one of those?
Will this WIP ever go from manuscript to book? Will it find an enthusiastic agent and a brave publisher?
I don’t know, but I will finish it.
Be patient books, I’ll read you in a moment.. I just need to reach my word quota first.