I didn’t procrastinate yesterday, either. Over the past two days, I’ve written more than I have in the last six months combined. And, because I didn’t procrastinate, I finished something that I’ve been wanting to finish for a while now. Granted, I still have to edit it, but I finally finished writing the fifth installment of my Declevon Blackmoon series.
This story shouldn’t have taken me as long as it did. I’ve had the story for it in my head since I finished the previous installment. All I had to do was type it up. For whatever reason, I couldn’t do it. When I had some free time, I’d read instead. Or play video games. Or watch something on one of the ten thousand streaming services that it feels like I’m signed up for at the moment. I’ve done a lot of all of those things since I started writing Blackmoon 5 (not the actual title).
Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with doing any of those things. I enjoy doing all those things. However, if I buckled down, like I have the past two days, I’d have finished the story in a month, maybe two, instead of the fifteen months that have past since the fourth installment was published.
Damn. Fifteen months. I can’t believe it took me that long to finish this story. Seriously, I can’t believe it. When I looked up the publication date on Amazon, I had to look a few times because I thought I was seeing it incorrectly. I would have sworn it was less than a year.
Maybe I need to go back to dedicating a certain amount of time each week to writing. It doesn’t necessarily need to be the same story week to week. It just needs to be me writing something, anything. Maybe if I do that, I’ll get back into the flow I had years ago when I wrote almost every day.