I’m about to pack up and leave Starbuck’s, and I feel pretty good.
Ever since I tried to reread A Clean Slate, I’ve been dreading the idea of starting again. I knew that it was necessary. The previous incarnation was bad enough that any attempt to fix it was going to be a complete rewrite. It is easier and quicker just to dump the previous prose and start fresh. Start A Clean Slate with a clean slate.
It wasn’t easy. I managed to put it off last week by doing a bunch of outlining. The outlining was necessary, but it also felt like I was procrastinating. It felt like I was putting the scary part off for another day.
Why is it so scary? Why does a brand new document fill me with so much dread? It’s fear, for sure. But why must I torture myself with all of this fear before I’ve even started?
I opened the new document tonight, selected the manuscript template, and filled in my name and the title of the story. Then I procrastinated a little bit more, by taking to twitter and participating in #GenreChat.
Opening the new document was like riding a roller coaster to the very top, where everything slows down before the mad rush. All of the anticipation is there, as well as the fear of crashing and burning.
#GenreChat finished, and I took the plunge. I started slowly, picking up a little bit more speed as the setting started to solidify in my mind. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t torturous, either. Self-doubt tells me that it might be torturous to my readers, but to hell with self-doubt.
I’m a little more than 500 words into the prelude, and that seems pretty good for now. It’s a start. More importantly, it’s another place where I faced my fears head-on and succeeded.
Tonight was a good night.