It's good to be prolific - at least from my vantage point (outside looking in) though I probably won't have a ton of books penned in my lifetime. I worry too much over every word. Though it bums me out that I still don't have my WIPS completed yet, I like how they're coming along. They keep evolving as I fill in the blanks and fix things.
When the time comes to publish my short story and novel, I'm going to go the whole hog: full editing, print editions, Top quality professional cover design and everything. So it will be worth sweating every detail.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I will have two completed manuscripts ready for the first pass - definitely not this month, probably not next month, and maybe not even the month after that, but it WILL happen. Whatever happens in the end, if my work is loved, despised, or ignored ultimately doesn't matter - and it definitely doesn't matter at this moment in time.
That's how I'm keeping my head screwed on - I have an inner sense of completion for everything I set out to do, and the only way I can fail is if I give up or rush to finish and end up with something that feels inferior relative to its potential. My intuitive gut will know when its time to write "THE END" and heave a glorious sigh of relief.
In the meantime, Planet Ewboogerick is green and there's nothing I can do.
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