Falling Short

So another year is drawing to a close, and the title of this post sums up how I’m feeling at the moment about my creative year. I said confidently in my last post that by Christmas I would have finished the second draft of my novel. Well guess what, that hasn’t happened. I haven’t been lazy about it, either. Virtually every night I’ve been working on it. I’ve done less than I thought as work has proven pretty crazy in the run-up to Christmas. Moving operations to a new warehouse and offices in early December probably wasn’t the best idea, but that could be why I’m not a manager. Still, it has meant I’ve been very tired in the evenings and haven’t been able to edit as much per session as I would like. It’s quite a laborious process and I want to do it well, so when fatigue sets in I call it quits. About halfway through, so we’re looking at sometime in January before its fit for human consumption.

Outside of that my only other creative writing was the short story One Night Rebellion I published back in March. I’ve read it again and I’m pleased with it – the writing come out fresh and clean and quick, and I like the yearning tone of it. Other than that it’s been stops and starts. A couple of pieces never got off the ground although there is on I may revisit, so the next thing I write will be something I have yet to uncover. Hopefully it will come sometime soon!

Away from writing, my reading has been disappointing this year. I set myself the lowest Goodreads target ever for 2018 and I’m not going to make it. Worse, I have struggled to find books that have blown me away, which is unusual, for my radar is usually quite good. I did read one of my favourite books in years at the beginning of this month, one that filled my heart with joy and melancholy, a combination which only the greats can provide. All will be revealed in my 2018 reading year post which will be up sometime after Christmas. I also set myself a fun TV challenge, rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel (two favourite TV shows of my formative years) which I’ve failed miserably too. Barely seen any good films, either. Had a stark lack of inspiration from the glass teat this year.

To sum it up I would say it’s been a rather dreary year creatively. That spark of wonder and fulfilment you get from writing good prose or seeing/reading something that knocks you out, it’s been largely absent, with only the odd ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds. That’s not to say it’s been a waste of time, just more of a slog than in the past. Could say the same about getting old, I suppose. On that cheerful note, a Merry Christmas to all!

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