Time is unkind to the hesitant

This is an observation.

Time is unkind to the hesitant.

I blink, another week has passed.

The other day, thinking about the novel in my drawer, I was positive about my progress (or lack thereof). I’ll be honest. I have moments of angry clarity. Do you have moments of fury? Why on earth does everything, anything, anyone take precedent over MY darn project?

Because life is many things. And it is all happening at the same time.

I once heard that the first novel takes a writer ten years to finish. TEN. T E N. 1 0.

I heard this five years ago.

Now I believe it.

This is not a “I’m beating myself up post”.

There is no spark in my heart or head if it’s flooded with anger.

This is an observation.

Time is unkind to the hesitant.

There is no need to be unkind to myself.

Time is already taking care of it.

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