More Truisms

James Lileks on the difficulties of writing a novel:

I have a large project that needs to be done. It’s the novel. The not-Joe-Ohio novel. Part of me wants to give in to the Elves of Self-Doubt, who show up by the score and bang me over the head with small hammers until I realize there’s no point to writing the damn thing, but I really like the idea. It’s a matter of finding the time. This is where “not winning the lottery” is a major impediment, because I cannot stroll back to the Writing Hut at the edge of the Manor and type uninterrupted. Everything else I can do with constant interruption, both external and internal – but it’s hard to get into the groove when something else is always nipping at my heels. No matter how good the idea is, enthusiasm is evanescent, and I worry that this one will just evaporate with time.

One thing I've learned about writing: Every project - large, small or indifferent - has a start time. You get an idea. You think about it, hash it out, make notes, do some research, think about it some more, maybe even do an outline and sooner or later the pressure builds to a point where it becomes either go or no/go. If the "Elves of Self-Doubt" get their way - as they so often do - then the project will slip away into the ether and you will move on to other things.

And one day you will rescue a slip of paper from the scrap-heap of your desk and you will say, "Damn! I remember this!", and you will look at it with a bit of interest, a smattering of nostalgia, and a lot of wondering. Some of the wondering will take the form of "why did I ever think this was worth writing about?" and some of it will be "you know, this would have made a great story" but it will all be in the past tense. All of the emotion - all the passion - that you felt for it will be gone.

Enthusiam is evanescent.

Take it at its crest and ride it for all it's worth.