Writing last night, I found myself going down a melancholic path with my character that was real, and reflected my own mood. Yet, thinking about it today, I'm not sure it's what I want my character to be - An unlikeable sod who is always worrying about how he's perceived or if he's "good enough".
I'm not going to change it now, though. I'm going to finish the story, then go back and edit as necessary. I'm just starting to become scared at the prospect of tackling that process. While I'm closer than I've ever been to "done" with this story that's been rattling around in my head for years, I'm starting to realize just how far away from done I am. The reality is better than the fantasy of thinking "it's easy, I can start anytime", as with reality I'm realizing that if I wait, it may never get done. But the reality is also sobering, and making me count the cost. Also good. Sometimes painful.
Press on,
-Nas
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