Several years ago I started writing a story. However, I keep stalling and never seem to get any closer to finishing.
The empty Book
The One That Got Away would probably be a would-be novel that I’ve been working on on-and-off for several years.
Lately, the only thing I’ve been doing is trying out layouts and formats, instead of actually writing. I’ve been doing just that right now, actually. As of now, I only have six chapters, and when I actually do get to writing, I mostly just edit the old stuff instead of producing new prose.
Even the title is a testament to my uninspired state—ever since the beginning it’s just been called In English, indicating that I’d deviated from my standard Swedish.
I should probably be writing something else for a while to get into it again. Maybe this year I should actually try to finish NaNoWriMo…
The whole thing was so promising once. I had just invented the plot (or start of a plot, which may be part of why I’ve stalled) and I loved the characters. A friend of mine was in on the whole thing, pepping me and urging me to continue. He’s a graphical artist and even drew a few character sketches for me as inspiration. I loved it. I had momentum.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I don’t harbor any illusions of becoming published or anything. Though that would be a nice bonus, I’m writing mainly because I like it, and I feel I might be onto something good. I might self-publish and earn a few bucks. But the main point is if I don’t finish it, it’ll forever be The One That Got Away.