Support the Draft

There are few things that blend quite so well as a warm-bodied merlot and an unleashed fantasy. For the first time in months, I began to write again tonight. Inspired by an essay* that my instructor read for the class today, as well as other similar messages I've been getting over the last few days, I stopped waiting for the mood or the muse or even the right words and wrote 8 pages of drudge. But I wrote 8 pages, nevertheless. And whether or not those 8 pages make it to my final draft doesn't matter. That's a whole 8 pages closer to the end than I was just this afternoon. And that, my friends, is an encouraging thought.

Thank God for tenacity and strength. This is going to be a long river to paddle, but at least I'm no longer up a creek.

Cheers.

* "Shitty First Drafts" by Anne Lamott