[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NUdWR1lOvPA&w=475&h=297] [A video that has exactly ZERO to do with this post!]
This post is #38 in a series of 50 dedicated to the art and life of writing, in support of the 50 for 50 Project to benefit WriteGirl. If you like it, or if you think it could have been improved by a better writing education for its author, please give generously. And pass it on.
Forget the long hours, the unbelievable amount of writing, and the constant low-level anxiety about not raising what I'd set out to raise: the hardest thing about this whole campaign by far was sitting down to write the defining, outward-facing piece.
I've been turning various pieces of this idea around in my head for well over a year, more like a year and a half. I'd drafted rough copy, made lists, secured help with various pieces of the production and (my usual least-favorite thing) asked for favors in the form of goods and services for the perks. I'd even shot a video, with the help of good friends. And still, writing and then hitting "publish" on that IndieGoGo site was the killer.
I'm not sure why this should surprise me. I go through the same thing when the long shadows provided by time finally disappear and I can no longer put off the actual writing of that column, that article, that presentation. And delivery, whether it's a "send" or a step up to the mic in real time, never gets easier. Not even as I get more adept at the writing. The bar just moves up a notch.
It will never, ever be perfect, whatever it is. It will never even be as good as I want it to be, most likely.
But one thing is even more certain than that: if I don't start, it won't be. And that is no longer acceptable.
And so I start. Again.