I have learned much about myself through introspective thought. My need to create a system to reign in the chaos around my life–and the subsequent failure of each system tried–has created a kind of numbing toward the inadequacies of all existing systems and their ability to suitably solve many of my problems.
Systems that implement a broad spectrum of principles to fit many individuals, I have learned, do not work when applied to my personal situation.
Ultimately, this is not a failure of those systems, but rather a failure of my self to accept a system that has worked for many other people.
Where did the time go?
Sometimes I need little extra push to get myself pointed in the right direction. There are countless methods out there that proclaim to cure a writer of their creative blocks, or motivate even the most lethargic pencil pusher.
Nostrums! Snake Oil!
Autism-causing vaccinations! OK, maybe not that last one.
As a slacker fueled by distractions, I have attempted just about every method out there to escape the event horizon of the anti-productivity black hole. Yet, even my ever-increasing mass does not seem to attract enough accountability to keep me from ignoring the goal all together and justifying my inaction.
Something a little more drastic must be done.
As I’ve mentioned multiple times here in the past, I am working on writing a novel. Truthfully, there is enough material in the universe of this novel for three or four full length novels.
I started with the ideas in late 2002, and have progressively and consistently dropped the ball day after day since then. I have found that there are no less than four things that have played into my failure in finishing the novel(s) that I have been working on over the past few years.