My Cherished Romanian Friend Who Can Speak Greek,
I want to first and above all speak a word of gratitude for the kick in the pants. Fortunate is the one who encounters another who uses a little metaphorical whip-driving as an encouragement to work harder in a field of interest but which is vast and with so many roads and paths so it might appear as laziness to the ignorant observer but it is really no more than an overwhelm at all the possibilities, each possessing their own qualities of attractiveness.
Meaning: I don’t even know what Day this is of the One Project at Time Plan. Day 18? 19? Except for a couple little poetic things I’ve actually stayed on the One Project. Some kind of work on it and only it every day. And lo to my surprise, I, who will be the quickest to say I am no storyteller, am seeing potential existence of an honest-to-goodness story.
And this is where a new complication is trickling in – and to answer with another reason these things are so damn difficult to reach completion with, this would be one of them. The same overwhelm happens in this specific world as does the general one. Such as: in the general one, the attractants and their questions/dilemmas are (assuming the thing to do is to zero in on one primary section of the field or one field in all the landscape and stay there and be content to get rooted for deep exploration for as long as this humble breath shall breathe): poetry, narrative poetry, epics, novels, novellas, short stories, shelve it all and go back to the guitar, or rekindle the camera passions, go with the ongoing potpourri into one general container (aka Island Airs)….?
This is why it was/is so helpful you came along and said to just pick one of the many unfinished projects and stay with only it until it is finished and to not start anything new (and I’ll assume that included messing with another unfinished one) until then.
So as we know I did that. Employed a customized process of elimination-random-selection – the fact that the one the fates sort of chose wasn’t so far along might’ve influenced this complication I’m trying to explain. Then again I think the complication would come along anyway, because it is a complication built into the very attempt to make a finished invention with the magic of words. It has to do with the fact of the longer the thing progresses or even the longer the mind focuses on the one thing, new possibilities begin to pop up here and then there. Then a few more pop up over there and then yet more possibilities begin to pop out of those popped out and sometimes popping possibilities.
Keeping in mind, the objective is to complete a novel length work, for this purpose, for the building of confidence and sense of accomplishment, the goal was/is to make this one on the short end of what is considered novel length. Just to get that obstacle out of the way. Feel stronger in dealing with a larger one. But when the possibilities begin popping up and possibilities pop out of those possibilities, I suddenly see something that I can’t imagine confining within the space of a short novel. Because I set out an ending to bring the events to, but then see where more could sprout or be stretched or continued from that ending so it isn’t an ending. Something like: and they lived happily ever after. But not really because all of a sudden….
So the temptation standing nearby which exudes a tantalizing scent is called, Novella-sized Episodes of an Ongoing World.
But I know if I do that, if I do not stitch together at least one novel or novel-length thing…. it’s like the one hurdle I always get excited about but end up finding a way to avoid.
Or I need to come to terms with – or we need to consider letting go of the One Large Work In One Thing dream.
I am also starting to miss playing with poetics. I’ve dared to play with a few since beginning this project but I immediately felt the percolating perils and the only solution I can see is to use that as an incentive – playground sort of self-reward for finishing a novel-length invention. Even this is difficult, because I can smell that distinctive aroma of assonance and alliteration – they both came in and are sitting behind me, and daring me to give them just one look and I know they will own my soul for the next week if I do, and the One Project at a Time Plan will be yet one more pile of wreckage for the back yard where rust long ago established a legacy of dominance.