Writing to the End

Last night I was challenged to complete my book.

I felt myself getting a little angry! Who on earth were these people that had made such an obscene challenge. Did they not know how busy I have been? Did they not understand that one cannot just sit down and churn out chapters of words infused with feeling? That meaningful writing does not just happen. That the right frame of mind is critical if my passion, concern, and love for my fellow man is to leap off the pages and into their lives.

I smiled and nodded, wondering how long it would take before I could get out of there.

Perhaps my smile was too broad? Suddenly the floodgates of advice were flung open and I was swimming against the deluge. You should set yourself a writing hour a week. Just write regardless of what it is. Editing is for later. Find the time. Manage your time better. How important is this book to you really?

And then I realised that these people really cared about me. That they were only trying to help me achieve a goal that I had set myself about five years ago! A goal that seems as far away now as it did when I created it. Perhaps they could already see that it was not going to happen. Was it that obvious that my failure to finish this project was acceptable to me?

Slowly, a little window in my murky consciousness opened. I can finish this book if I really want to. I already have 16 good chapters and a great book plan! Just 10 chapters to go!

With a little effort, I can make this happen!