In his treatise on the power of persistence and the potential for resurrection, the philosopher Mr. Eminimen states, "Pardon me if I'm a cocky prick." I am not an arrogant person but, when I started the Foreword program at the Loft at the beginning of this year, I told Deborah, "I don't need two years to write a book. It will probably only take me 6 months and I'm not sure what I'll do with the rest of my time in the program."

Yes, I actually said that. Aloud. The entire statement screams "cocky prick".

I was caught up in my excitement and I was naive. I thought that I would take some of the best material from this blog and tweak it here and add a few details there and then - BAM! I'd have a book.

I was wrong.

I have been working and writing for 11 months now and have drafts of a handful of personal essays. It took me two months to finish a draft of one essay. A draft. And I know that it is going to require a great deal more work. I've learned a lot and I understand now what it really means to take a piece of writing deeper, to draw more meaning from it, to craft it into something beyond a simple story. It's hard. It's daunting. I get discouraged. Somedays, I wonder if I'll ever actually finish a book at all.

Blogging provides such immediate satisfaction. I write something and people comment and I get positive reinforcement from the exchange. Right now, I am working alone. I write and I get critical feedback but it's different. It feels a little lonely.

I have always struggled to remain in the present moment. I focus on the end result. I want to skip ahead. But I can't. Every time I put words on the page, I am reminded that I have to do the hard work, that I'm the only one that can push this project towards the end I envisioned. There is no easy way out for me this time. I hate life lessons.

This is all to say that I am humbled. To quote Mr. Eminem once again, "...but from now on I'm refusing to ever give up."