Yesterday I finished my novel revision, and even though I had intended to finish it by the end of March, it is a major accomplishment that I finished it at all. It’s been a rough year personally and therefore creatively, so the fact that I was able to fight through and finish this… it’s really meaningful to me. I’m excited because I only stepped back into this book the week before Thanksgiving. And here we are, and it’s done, and it’s so much better than it was before.
Also I fixed the ending. It involved cutting about half of the first draft rambling nonsense and drafting new scenes and chapters that actually made sense, but I think it’s good now. Not perfect. But good. The bones are there. And that’s another win for me.
It’s taken a big chunk of my life to get to this point of realizing we’ve got to take our wins where we can. That I’m sitting here writing this is a win. That I finished my revision in the year of 2017 is a win. That I’m facing 2018 full of dreams and hopes is a win. It would be easy for me to cast myself as an utter failure, particularly given the year I’ve had. Given the benchmarks I meant to hit and didn’t. Given the accomplishments I didn’t come anywhere close to. But I’m not a failure.
I don’t know whether this book will ever make it out into the universe. I hope it does. I love it that much. I want to share it. But even if it never does, this weird little magic book of mine will always be dear to me.
This is just me rambling my end-of-the-year thoughts, I suppose. And maybe by this time next year I’ll be exactly where I want to be professionally. And maybe not. But I’ll keep writing, keep creating. It’s starting to feel like enough.