It would be great if believing in my own skills and abilities were as easy as believing in the ‘squatch. However, I’m halfway through the second draft of my side-novel, and I’m wondering why I ever started it in the first place, and why it’s not better than this when it’s the second draft. Am I going to have to do five drafts for each and every book?!
Ain’t nobody got time for that.
But I guess I have time to improve. As J. Alfred Prufrock says, “And indeed there will be time/To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”/Time to turn back and descend the stair.” Or keep going forward and face the challenges ahead, “til human voices wake us and we drown.”
It looks like Bigfoot, Eliot, and Dali all want me to take a chill pill and just get back down to business. I guess that’s what I’ll do. The alternative is stopping, and I’m not going to do that, for sure.