I failed miserably, abyssmally. You get the point. In a contest to write 50,000 words, I didn't quite make it to 2,000 words. Pitiful, embarassing.
Why did I fail? There are myriad reasons.
1. I expected to fail. It's hard to psych yourself to work when you start off thinking you won't succeed.
2. I was too distracted by research: one example is here. I did use some research that I had previously written about the railroad industry in general, but I'm not sure if I put it in the right place.
3. I did not prioritize my writing. Actually, I do not priortize my writing. Ding, ding, ding. That's the number one reason, and I guess the only real reason for all of my writing failures. I remember mornings when I'd get up to write only to be distracted by emptying the dishwasher and playing New York Times word games.
At the beginning of the year, I had a goal to write for two hours a day, Yeah well, I fucked that up. Think of all the words I would have now. Isn't that's what writing is, words strung together--hopefully beautifully.
Finally, it dawned on me: I have to think of writing as my job and plan accordingly. At least I've learned something from my failure.
Another good result from this mess: I'm in Merwinsville mode again. I'm remembering why I'm so fascinated by Sylvanus Merwin and his hotel. I'm imagining his relationship with his wife Flora, wondering about his rivalry with his half-brother Peter Gaylord, visualizing the telegraphic courtship of Helen Merwin and Ed Hurd.
There's more to learn and much more to write.
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