Somewhere Over the Deadline

A college friend from our days in creative writing got in touch with me back in March and now we are coaching each other to finish a writing project. "How will we monitor our progress?" he asked, so I came up with some severe deadlines. First 100 pages by end of June, second by end of July; first draft read by chosen Reader by mid August, corrections and finished second draft DONE by September 20 (my father's birthday).

We both excitedly agreed.

I emailed him a few days ago, admitting my slow progress, and asking about his, and his reply indicated he had not gotten past his plot outline. Instead, he is staring at an endless stack of essays and projects to be graded since he is a college professor and teaching this summer.

I went to bed last night doubting my abilities as a writer, but even more, doubting my disciplinary skills. I wrote back to my friend, stating such.

As always, confession is indeed good for the soul. It cleared something in me. This morning, I woke up and decided to build a new routine - however my creative process indicated and needed. I felt my spirit guides giving a sigh of relief. "The kid's finally getting it," I suspected them saying.

So here I am on July 2, way past first draft deadline. My cat is meowing at me because he wants to be brushed before he descends into his daily ritual of sleeping all day, and I am sitting here, posting a blog.

And it feels right.