I was recently in touch online with someone who I hadn't spoken with in a few years. We both were working on some pieces of fan-fiction -- "Doctor Who", for the curious -- and were critiquing each other's work. Hers was a series of connected short stories, as though she was writing an entire season (that's series, for any U. K. readers who might be reading) for the show. Mine was an opus magnum, a story requiring over 500 pages to be told. Hey, if you read this blog on any kind of regular basis, you already know I'm long-winded.
We fell out of touch due to a mutual waning interest in "Doctor Who" and real life taking more of our time and energy. But, we still had a love of writing and asked about the work we both were working on back in 2008. She said she discontinued her efforts on her project, falling short of her goal of 15 short stories by 3, in early 2009. I finished mine, the final page count at 529, in mid-2009, although no one has read the story in its entirety and will never have the opportunity, either.
She was impressed I stuck with it. I was, too, to be honest. I began the work in 2003 and had stopped a few times, vowing never to go back to it, but always returning to it like an addiction. I wondered why I was so obsessed with the silly thing. It wasn't as though it was being written for money. It certainly wasn't being written for pleasure, especially toward the end. I kept telling myself it was for the challenge, but that wasn't it, either.
So, what was it? It was to finish it, pure and simple. There had been so many things I started writing and walked away from in the past, tossing paper or deleting files along the way once I realized I wasn't going back to them. It was a pattern that had to be broken and this behemoth of crap fan-fiction was going to be the work that broke that lazy wordsmithing habit in me. I got a very strong sense of satisfaction with finishing it, even though it immediately got offloaded from my computer and has never been looked at again.
R.I.P. "Time of the Season".
Since our last interaction, my friend and I have moved onto other work, other people in our lives, and other styles and genres of writing. It was a good catch-up and is an e-friendship that will likely continue for quite some time. "Doctor Who" has been left behind as the source of inspiration for both of us. Much as I owe the series a debt of gratitude for being the muse to the work that made me finish what I started, I'm the one responsible for perpetuating that good habit since then. Besides, my real muse hates competition.
This blog entry is dedicated to Ginny M. and our renewed friendship. I look forward to reading more, more, more and wish you all the best for your final college year starting this fall.
