I’m home sick at the moment, trying to work up the energy to go to the supermarket for green tea and a fresh supply of paracetamol. I’m wearing new knitted bootie slippers that I never want to take off and this ancient bobbly jumper that is too big and well past its prime but that I can’t part with for personal reasons (top of the list right now: it’s super cosy). So of course, in the spirit of the-couch-is-my-home-now procrastination, here we are. Hello, blog. Long time, no see.

Neglecting my blog reminds me of one of my worst habits: starting things that I don’t finish. I am surrounded by half finished projects, deserted at the mid-point because I turned magpie and (probably) got distracted by something shiny. Writing projects are chief among them, as is my Masters in Communications. (See also: cleaning out my wardrobe). There is no excuse, really, and no amount of frustration over these looming incomplete demons seems to prompt me to action. Oftentimes I just assume I will get back to it. Therein lies the problem: most of the time I don’t.

Recently during a clean up I found and re-read two such projects. One a very incomplete manuscript for a classic sword-and-sorcery style fantasy novel (which I am sure I imagined being a trilogy, because that is the done thing, right?) and the other a complete first draft of a humorous vampire novel, both written by me some years ago. Both have major failings and neither do anything revolutionary or of spectacular merit, but somehow I had forgotten how far I had gone with them both. How many hours did I spend on these for them to end up in a drawer? Achievement unlocked: English major with unfinished manuscript in drawer. Wait, two unfinished manuscripts. Do I get a patch for that?

I think a part of me assumed I would finish one if not both of these eventually, and then my reading grew more diverse and I wondered if there was much merit to what I was writing and whether launching it out into the world was worth it. In short, was sword-and-sorcery fantasy or funny vampires really what I was passionate about? I’ll admit: for a time, yes it was. There is process and there is end point. The process, at the time, must have been enough if the product of so many writing hours was locked away with little thought or use afterwards. I try to claim that it bugs me, and on some level it really does. Reading a solid chapter with a brief middle section that reads “plus more here to link scenes” is just annoying. Past April, how could you?

I wonder if it would give me a hearty sense of accomplishment to try and finish either of these projects, just to prove I could. Truth be told, it has been so long, I quite enjoyed reading the pair of them. What if it wasn’t desertion or failure, but just a lull? It’s tempting but I think I know that neither of them is right for me now, and anyway, we’ve established that one of my worst habits is failing to finish what I start. Maybe the process, this time, really was enough.

‘Til next time,