May 2012

I don't think anyone really appreciates the process behind any product until they've engaged it at every level. I hope down the road I can honestly tell someone looking at the same path of self-published authorship, "Yes, it was worth it, go-go". Staring at a half million words of text while standing at my desk makes me wonder if I'll be able to ever utter those words. I don't think I ever realized just how hard this would be, or the ways in which I would have to grow as a person and a creative. 

I definitely want to do this. Give it five years of my life at least. After that, I dunno. 

At this point I've given up trying to figure out exactly how much I've written in the last two months. After a lot of work, it is still spread out among two hundred or so .txt files in my Daedalus app, and I'm slowly moving it all into the formatted documents where they belong. I feel like I'm moving a huge flock of sheep that do not know where they are going or why they exist, I've written so much in the last couple of months that it has sort of lost all meaning. 

Every day, and every night, I write more. I've been taking Melatonin to make me sleep, so I don't stay up until 3:00 AM making text. The dreams and the sometimes sluggishness I feel the day after almost aren't worth it. 

I still don't lack for material. I feel like I have at least two more books in me that are still languishing as outlines and one of those could lead to an array of related works. I'm trying to at least get all the text I've already written moved to the proper place and edited before I disappear to a dark corner to write more drafts for more books. Books I already don't have the stamina to edit at this point. 

I might need to find some help.