It’s been nearly two weeks now since I started work on my novel. I have been persistent and strict with myself, writing each day. Some days it might only be a couple of hundred words, but it is still progress. The word count is currently standing at 15,000. I’m trying not to get hung up on this, preferring to concentrate on the flow rather than length. Before beginning in earnest, I had an entire notebook filled with ideas for chapters and whole chunks of prose and dialogue scrawled on the pages. I have been trawling through these notes, deciding what works and what doesn’t.
Much of what I have written is deeply personal. There are situations I have described that none of my family or friends know about. I’m concerned of what they will think of me after reading these chapters. However, I made a promise to myself to be as honest as I possibly could about my experiences, and the impact Bipolar has had on my life.
I’ve been open about it with friends and family, with offers to read my work through and critique when it’s finished. I’m not sure how I feel about the people close to me critiquing my work. I would prefer a completely honest assessment of what I have written, not a watered down version of the truth.
There are many questions and doubts circling my mind as I write:
Is this engaging enough?
Will anyone actually want to read this?
Has everyone been lying to me and I can’t actually write?
I’m trying my hardest to silence the negative voices. I have a reputation for self sabotage and I’m determined to keep going and pursue my goal.
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