Sometimes I am astounded by how long it takes me to write stories.
I’m actually a pretty fast writer. I write fiction for at least two hours every day (I would gladly write for longer if I had the hours to spare), and when I’m in a rough-draft season, which is my get-it-out-as-fast-as-I-can mode, I can log between 11,000 and 13,000 words a day. But when I’m in a final-draft season—my make-sure-this-is-perfect mode and where I’m parked right now—I only log about 2,500 words a day.
What this means is that one Fairendale book can take me at least three months—sometimes longer—from brainstorm to final draft. And after that, there’s an editing season, a compiling season and a fact-checking season to make sure there are no inconsistencies with all the stories.
Sometimes I would like to be done with the particular story I’m working on yesterday (that’s not a typo. I know I’m using past and future tense in the same sentence, but it’s really how I feel sometimes).
I have a son who is the most persistent person on the planet. I’m not talking about the one who argues for hours about whether or not he should be given a second chance to have technology time because he went over on his time yesterday. I’m talking about my 6-year-old, who will work on a first-grade math sheet until he’s red in the face, because he doesn’t want help, he wants to figure it out himself.
I admire this about him. I hate homework in the first place (but that’s a conversation for another day), but I enjoy that I get to see his persistence in action every day at about 3 p.m. He will tap his pencil against his mouth, tilt his head, and turn the worksheet upside down to try to figure out how many quarters there would be in two rectangles. It takes him time to do these worksheets, but when he’s finished, I can tell that his sense of accomplishment and empowerment has grown.
I’ve learned, in my years as an author, that it’s much the same for my writing projects. I know how much work it takes to finish a project as involved as Fairendale. I know how it can sometimes seem to drag on and on without an end in sight. I also know that if I give up, like I want to do some days, if I’m being honest, I will never know that sense of accomplishment and fulfillment that comes from producing something that has the potential to change lives in some small way.
The best things in life, you see, take a lot of time and patience. It’s the same with raising our children, the same with raising ourselves, the same with raising our careers or aspirations.
So take your time. Enjoy your journey. Observe and soak in and revel.
