So it is true what Stephen King said - that the scariest moment is always just before you start. After years of searching, I still haven’t found the reason why this happens. But I, sure as hell, can say that if you don’t face the fear, for a long period, it will turn into killing-the-book type of procrastination. At first, it will not seem that long - ‘just a day off’, ‘just this week, it’s been hectic’, ‘not this weekend, I’m sick’. Days will turn into weeks, and weeks will turn into months, and, God forbid, that ‘break’ will turn into years. You will grow old, you will see your children grown and your will shall state that if they want the inheritance, they must continue your literary creation. They’ll get tons of your book notes, yellowed by time and barely readable, and in the will you would have (lovingly) specified that ‘should you want the money I worked for all my life, like a slave, write my book and you shall find the path to it’. And they’ll hate you for it; they might do it (and get all the credit for your sensational novel idea), or they won’t even bother. You’ll die with a brilliant plot in your mind, a beautiful world that you created from nothing and dear characters that begged you for years to write their words.
Gruesome picture. I bet you don’t want that. Neither do I.
So, what I did today was to read the guidelines of chapter 15, and realized that I have to reread chapter 13 because that’s where I left my story off with the first main character (the book is the narration of two main characters).
Surprisingly, I liked it. I don’t know if it was good because I forgot what it was about and it seemed like someone else had written it, or because I might be good with words and I don’t wish to see it. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I know how to continue the story, though I literally dragged my feet to the desk. A ‘sudden’ tiredness had hit me after coming home from work but the moment I began reading and loving the story, poof, it was gone. Just like that.