So for years you have been working on this thing. Every day your routine is built around how much of the book you get finished. It is the structure that is your world. It is your nine to five and you feel much like everyone else who trudges off to work and then returns exhausted at the end of the day. You trudge off to your desk your computer your office over the garage and your day is evaluated by the quality of work if not the amount that is completed on that amorphous jumble of words that grows everyday in your computer. And then one day, after many many rewrites and tweaks and cutting and expanding and reworking and re imagining, suddenly you are finished. You have just been fired from your job.
Because it no longer exists. The crucible that was your office is gone. Your desk has been cleaned and your name plate taken down and you no longer go to the office. Your position has been eliminated and you have been handed your box of things and escorted by the security guard to your car. You say your goodbyes, get in and drive home. And then, like the newly unemployed, you wake the next day and have the vague feeling that somebody died. But you push that aside and attack all the things you have been putting off for months if not years.
That takes a few days and then you fill a few more days feeling good about your accomplishment. Then...then...you realize, you have nothing to do. Oh there are things to do, but the nucleus to your days is simply gone. Your raison det has vanished over the next hill and you become the stay at home daddy mom or you just stay at home or you go to work and become that person again. You have finished your novel and nothing will ever be as shocking as the realization that those days lived in that world are really over.
Until you begin again.
http://www.billhazelgrove.com/
Because it no longer exists. The crucible that was your office is gone. Your desk has been cleaned and your name plate taken down and you no longer go to the office. Your position has been eliminated and you have been handed your box of things and escorted by the security guard to your car. You say your goodbyes, get in and drive home. And then, like the newly unemployed, you wake the next day and have the vague feeling that somebody died. But you push that aside and attack all the things you have been putting off for months if not years.
That takes a few days and then you fill a few more days feeling good about your accomplishment. Then...then...you realize, you have nothing to do. Oh there are things to do, but the nucleus to your days is simply gone. Your raison det has vanished over the next hill and you become the stay at home daddy mom or you just stay at home or you go to work and become that person again. You have finished your novel and nothing will ever be as shocking as the realization that those days lived in that world are really over.
Until you begin again.
http://www.billhazelgrove.com/
