I have terrible distance vision. Both literally and figuratively speaking. I always want things to happen now. Today. Not next month or next year. And I have trouble seeing that a little bit each day adds up to a whole lot.
Which is a bit of a problem for someone trying to write a novel.
In the beginning, I would set aside whole Saturdays every once in awhile, work nonstop from dawn to dusk and then get frustrated that the novel didn’t seem any closer to being finished.
We’re often told to fake it til you make it. If you want to be a fit person, then turn up to the gym every day, until you are one. And, if you want to be a writer, then sit down in that chair, and turn up to that blank page every day.
It wasn’t until I started taking my laptop with me on the train to and from work every day that I started to see progress. Real progress.
But I couldn’t see that day to day. Thanks to my crappy distance vision. All I could see was how much I hadn’t yet done, how many weeks of editing lay ahead. But I just kept picking up that laptop, opening it up to a new page.
Within the space of two weeks I had advanced 10,000 words. And in the space of three months I had a novel.
And in hindsight (which is always 20/20) that was no time at all.