Willpower is a funny thing.

If I were to fall in the water, I’m unable to swim, but I can hold my breath and remain calm enough to climb back out. I once rushed headlong into two dogs attacking another in the hopes of saving the dog and his young owner. I have also stayed awake all hours and worked all the next day.

Yet, somehow, I cannot finish the edits on my novel.

I have wonderful support in my various writing groups, on my socials, even in person as I inadvertently pitch my novel to prospective readers. Outside of those circles are local authors such as Allison Tait and Kell Woods, who have been kind enough to lend an ear and offer advice.

My edits have been going well and I can tell that this draft is the closest I’ve come to all the commercial fiction I’m reading or listening to. It’s smooth, the characters are interesting, the premise (totally not biased here) is fun, and people are interested in it.

So, why can’t I finish my edits?

Sure, I could blame it on owning and running a small business. The bookshop is my happy place. I could blame it on a three year old, my heavily pregnant wife, and the impending birth of our next child. I could blame it on the weather, the yard work, the house maintenance, or just being exhausted from doing (or even just thinking about) all of these things.

The truth is rooted somewhere in imposter syndrome and the difficulty of the task.

You see, the closer this manuscript gets to a publishable quality, the more I second guess all of it. The characters. The plot. The dialogue. The two first person points of view. The twist. I’m worried that it might get accepted and then someone will realise I made the whole thing up! Not only that, but I’ve done very well at getting a first draft out. I could start a new story idea tomorrow and have the draft out in a short span of time. It’s this drafting and rewriting that I’m having trouble with. I have yet to find my love for this part of the craft, which when you’ve rewritten a story and are on what is likely your seventeenth draft, you begin to lose your mind.

Yes, I’ve come here to vent, more to get it out of my mind and move on than anything else. Sometimes that’s all you need. In the meantime, I’m still participating in #FuriousFiction by the Australian Writers’ Centre every month. This month’s story ended up being about two personalities of the same person, titled “Two Sides of the Same Prison.”

It’s late and I’m heading to the bookshop for my public holiday to play catch up a little bit more before I’m off on parental leave. This means I should probably get some rest before putting myself to work, but I also had a short nap while putting my son to bed tonight, hence why I’m up so late.

At least there’s two updates to the blog this year, how about that? Maybe there’ll be more to come, and maybe even some good news down the track!