Over the last few months, I’ve been working on a larger, more substantial writing project, one that is longer than a typical narrative essay but still shorter than a historical epic. The time that I’ve spent on this project has been reasonably prolific, at least when compared to any creative pursuit—because of course there’s still been the usual backtracking and roadblocks and confusions.
But I’ve muddled through the muck, little-by-little, stumbling forward, the gains mostly visible from a distance. What’s unusual about these minuscule steps, however, is that they’ve come despite an absence of the project’s actual fundamentals, which probably should have prevented me from starting. In my mind, it has felt like building the top floors of a building before setting the foundation, or like putting a makeup and costume crew to work before hiring any actors. Somehow, despite the tedious nature of physics to require ground floors before top floors, or that requires actors to exist before they are dressed, I’ve persisted.
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