Stumped

I find myself in a reluctant position to continue with my book editing.

The puzzles me a bit.  What I would perceive as the “hard” part of the book, the creation, is complete.  What remains is the (to me) tedious task of editing and re-editing, of listening to the flow of the language, and then the process of publishing.  If I have completed the “hard” part, why then do I find myself so reluctant to continue on?

It is actually sort of remarkable.  I have become almost pathological about working on it, finding reasons that I have other things to do, conveniently not having the blocks of time necessary to do it.  I have almost reached the point where the thought of working on another book has moved from my mind.

Why is this?  I love to write.  I love the exercise of put electrons to paper and developing my thoughts.  I was excited to see myself in print and even more excited when I actually made some money on the books.  But now, nothing.

Is it something more profound?  Is it the initial thrill of dream fulfilled meeting the reality of the world as it is and realizing that the dream, while good, has fulfilled its purpose:  it brought me to one finish line, but it was hardly the one I expected to find?

The act of writing and publishing was one of the hardest of my life in years.  Why?  Because it meant bringing something to completion, to the point of completion that it was actually ready to be done.  Having done it, I found it easy to do again.  But having done it again, I found that the return was not the same the next time out.

 
Is this because of my own expectations?  Have I convinced myself that the important part is not so much me expressing myself in hopes of somehow impacting someone else as it is me wanting fame and fortune showered upon me because, for once in my life, I finally showed up with 100% effort?
 

The reality is that the third book will most likely not bring me that return.  But that is no reason not to complete it.  I initially started writing (I think) as an output of a soul that was seeking to find a way to influence others, to help someone, to make a difference.  Those goals have not changed – but neither has the equally important goal of learning to finish what one starts.

The finishing is the thing.  Anything I realize from it is merely frosting on the cake of accomplishment.

Done then. I will push on to the finish line – because only by finishing do you get the bragging rights.  All else is merely talk by those who simply could not push through.