This time last year I was at a pub, celebrating with friends the release of the Well of Youth.
For the past 72 hours I have worked ceaselessly on finishing A Phantom Presence.
I have been behind schedule all year, not with writing so much as editing. Both my editor and I have had numerous things on, but its mostly been me.
I moved house, changed jobs, and that isn’t even the half of it. I was going through with my artist some of the hiccups this year, and listing it all was very depressing, but it also made me realise that while I wouldn’t publish A Phantom Presence today, I could finish it in another way, get the last of the rewrites and third round edits done.
And if I didn’t I’d consider myself a failure.
I’d blame myself for not having done enough to get the series ready in time for my birthday. Today I turned 35.
Reading the end of this has me absolutely convinced this is one of the best stories I’ve ever written, and I can allow myself to be proud of the work that’s gone into it.
Rather than feel like I haven’t done enough with the time I’ve been given, getting older has only taught me to redefine my goals, and to learn to accept my past mistakes and trials, so I can move on.
I’m sorry Phantom isn’t here yet, but its not as though it gone. And while I promised myself I’d get one book out every year, I know at least I can make up that time, and spend it more wisely.