DragonOfTheAerie
Vala
What if you feel that a WIP of yours is not worth finishing? What do you do?
To clarify, I don't feel that my WIP (Red Nights, the progress of which I've been tracking on Writers Work for a couple years) really is not worth finishing. Closer to the truth is that I feel I lack the motivation to finish it, there is simply so much work involved in getting it into a readable state that it will take massive amounts of time and effort to complete, and that it's not publishable and is unlikely to be read by anyone. Dire pronouncements for something I have spent two years working on.
I started a third draft very recently. This was after many months of not working on it, and after not finishing the second draft at all. It so happens that the job feels just as overwhelming when I'm starting over versus when I'm desperately clawing my way to an ending that keeps getting farther and farther away. The reality is that getting the book into a form that holds itself together will take much more time. It will take many more hours spent at the computer and I simply have no motivation for it anymore. It's a massive job, and that's just finishing this book. To really finish the story, I'll need to write a sequel.
I've also come to the conclusion that I really can't publish this, owing to the fact that there are a couple uncannily similar works already out there (I just read one of them), similar enough to raise eyebrows despite the fact that I couldn't have known about either when I started writing. Not a huge problem if you have the energy and time for revision and rethinking of some things, but I don't. I just want to be done. But it keeps getting harder and harder.
Also, almost everyone who wanted to read the book in the first place is no longer in contact with me. I lost almost all my friends recently.
I know all the shit about writing for yourself, but it's depressing to put so much work into something that's never going to be read or see the light of day. Then again, that may just be me being deep in depression speaking. It's another week before I get to see my therapist again. I feel like I'm going to wither. Maybe I don't feel passionate about this story any longer because I no longer feel passionate about anything at all.
Did I ever feel passionate about it? I started it just to have something to write when another project was on hiatus, not because I really liked the idea or anything. I came to like the story, but it's whatever. I don't think about it anymore or feel anything for it at all. I'm just tired. Every dream I have sublimates.
Right now, it seems that the only reason to finish is to prove to myself that I can. Or just to be writing. I won't really have anyone to show it to. Because no one cares anymore.
To clarify, I don't feel that my WIP (Red Nights, the progress of which I've been tracking on Writers Work for a couple years) really is not worth finishing. Closer to the truth is that I feel I lack the motivation to finish it, there is simply so much work involved in getting it into a readable state that it will take massive amounts of time and effort to complete, and that it's not publishable and is unlikely to be read by anyone. Dire pronouncements for something I have spent two years working on.
I started a third draft very recently. This was after many months of not working on it, and after not finishing the second draft at all. It so happens that the job feels just as overwhelming when I'm starting over versus when I'm desperately clawing my way to an ending that keeps getting farther and farther away. The reality is that getting the book into a form that holds itself together will take much more time. It will take many more hours spent at the computer and I simply have no motivation for it anymore. It's a massive job, and that's just finishing this book. To really finish the story, I'll need to write a sequel.
I've also come to the conclusion that I really can't publish this, owing to the fact that there are a couple uncannily similar works already out there (I just read one of them), similar enough to raise eyebrows despite the fact that I couldn't have known about either when I started writing. Not a huge problem if you have the energy and time for revision and rethinking of some things, but I don't. I just want to be done. But it keeps getting harder and harder.
Also, almost everyone who wanted to read the book in the first place is no longer in contact with me. I lost almost all my friends recently.
I know all the shit about writing for yourself, but it's depressing to put so much work into something that's never going to be read or see the light of day. Then again, that may just be me being deep in depression speaking. It's another week before I get to see my therapist again. I feel like I'm going to wither. Maybe I don't feel passionate about this story any longer because I no longer feel passionate about anything at all.
Did I ever feel passionate about it? I started it just to have something to write when another project was on hiatus, not because I really liked the idea or anything. I came to like the story, but it's whatever. I don't think about it anymore or feel anything for it at all. I'm just tired. Every dream I have sublimates.
Right now, it seems that the only reason to finish is to prove to myself that I can. Or just to be writing. I won't really have anyone to show it to. Because no one cares anymore.