I keep coming up with new reasons why I keep writing novels that don’t get published. Why I keep writing mediocre novels that almost certainly shouldn’t be published. Why I mostly don’t write novels at all.

But while all the reasons are true (children! cancer! teaching job! Trump & running for office!), I am starting to think they are not the real reason.

They are extremely plausible excuses, but they are all also exceedingly effective measures for avoiding doing the real work.

I got derailed in 2006, when I wrote my first novel too fast, under contract, and it was cancelled. I’m not sure I ever got properly back on the rails after that.

(No need for advice. Based on past experience, most of it won’t be relevant to me, and is sort of distracting too. Just processing out loud.)

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