Dialogue I had with myself while writing chapter XIV tonight

In my mind:

aspect 1: "Don't worry about 'finishing on time.' Do you realize that placing pressure on yourself to finish within a defined schedule actually causes you to worry yourself into a state of being unable to perform?"

aspect 2: "Yes, but if I don't present the material in a reliable fashion, true to my word, then I will lose readers. And I enjoy writing because I know there will be someone to read it."

aspect1: "Actually, you enjoy writing because you are writing, not because of the potential it holds. Like anyone, doing anything, the time you most enjoy your work the most is when the story becomes your world and there is nothing else in this life but that moment of creation. Besides... Even complete failure by measurable standards is not failure if you change because of the experience. Unless, of course, you are afraid of that change and simply regress instead of allowing yourself to become something new."

aspect 2: "Yeah, but I'd rather not fail."

aspect 1: "Then stop being afraid of failure and you won't. In fearing loss, we, as a species, will often deal blindly with the things that frighten us most. How many times have you seen a parent, afraid of losing their teenage child to drugs and alcohol, allow their relationship to get so bad that the child leaves to be on their own, in effect bringing about exactly what the paren't didn't want? That is what desiring not to fail brings about: failure. Otherwise, failings are just aspects of an event--much like death is an aspect of life. If you don't fear death, it loses any hold it has on this moment."

aspect 2: "But what about the book? Shouldn't I be writing it right now?"

aspect 1: "Everything happens in its own time. There are certain things that aren't meant to be forced, and others that cannot be forced at all. Besides, look at Douglas Adams. Maybe you'll get to be like him someday."

aspect 2: "The man who said, 'I love deadlines. I love the wooshing sound they make when they go by.' Best dude."

aspect 1: "F'real. But you know what's funny about deadlines?"

aspect 2: "What?"

aspect 1: "Once they are met, even if they are missed for a couple of weeks and then chanced upon at the local deli perusing a selection of cold cuts and fine, Irish cheddar... Sorry, it's about time for a 1 a.m. snack..."

aspect 2: "You're telling me."

aspect 1: "Anyways, once the intended content is created, the reader experiences it as if it were flowing instantly into creation in the moment that they encounter it. Which, really, it is."

aspect 2: "Seeing as reality is determined by each individual point of perception that exists within each person and is unique in many ways to them."

aspect 1: "Correct. And so, in the worst case scenario, you miss a few deadlines while finding yourself and coming to terms with the crazy world we live in. It happens. All you can do is try your best to be happy with the present moment, even if it kind of sucks and it's all your fault."

aspect 2: "Hey..."

aspect 1: "Don't worry, there's a cure for that."

aspect 2: "No, I don't want a drink. Stop asking; I have work in like four hours."

aspect 1: "Your loss."

aspect 2: "Yours too."

aspect 1: "Well played."

That said, I am about half way through the new chapter, and about 1/ 4 of the way to finding myself (I figure I'll probably live 'til I'm 84 and I'm assuming I'll figure out what I want out of life right as I kick the bucket, so, simple math/causality there.)

What this means is the following: the chapter will be done when it's done; I still think you are all unbelievably awesome for supporting me; and I hope you still remember what the hell was going on by the time I am able to update. (Or not, as I am seriously excited about someday having the time to edit all the old chapters, especially the more recent ones.)

If it makes you all feel better, I am having a delightful time of adapting to having a 'real' job. In fact, I'm so fantastic at what I do that I was quickly shuffled into a back room to cut cut paper ad infinitum with only occasional tours into the light of the living to place labels on envelopes. What was I hired as, you ask?...

A writer...

That, friends, is called Karma, and she is a toootal beezy.

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