It takes time

Just thought I’d drop a note in to say I’m doing better this week. Taking most of last week to recover really was a good move. I’ve been running several times, and I’m up to being able to run 30 minutes (not necessarily fast, but that’s okay) at a time. Proofreading has been my focus this week, with some progress made on the book for Moongypsy. I could tell my burnout was fading when I started getting ideas for new stories, and I have one idea for a short story that I’ll probably get written next week.

My big revelation this week has been that everything takes time. It’s something I know and am okay with when gardening — I planted a rhododendron six years ago that finally bloomed this year, and of my two clematis, this is the first year the maroon one has bloomed. (The purple one has been blooming for three years now.) Peonies also take a few years between first planting and blooming, but then they produce profusely every year.

Yet, even though I know I’m getting into better shape, sometimes I get depressed when I look in the mirror and see how far I still have to go. Then there’s writing — from idea to completed project can take seemingly forever.

So it’s good that I can look out at my garden and see that even things that take years to yield results are worth it.

maroon clematis

First bloom, after five years.


Clematis flower, partially opened

A regular showpiece in the garden.


white rhododendron blossoms

Six years' wait


Pale pink peony

Steady performer, every year.

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6 Responses to It takes time

  1. Claire says:

    That is some good advice to keep in mind. I’ve gotten a little impatient at times with how long things can take, and need to just relax and enjoy the process. I try not to let all the unrevised novels bother me. πŸ™‚

    Your garden sounds lovely, and those are nice pictures. Your peony is beautiful. I transplanted mine last season and I’m looking forward to it blooming again.

    • Erin says:

      Thank you!

      I’m glad you find my comments useful.

      It’s not the unrevised novels that get to me — it’s all the ones that are started but not finished. πŸ˜‰

  2. This, plus the idea that by going the indie route I’ll never get “accepted as a real writer”, were the two things that had me moping about the other week.

    But I reminded myself that I’m only 4 years into a 20 year plan. From that perspective I’m doing really well. It’s all relative, isn’t it?

    • Erin says:

      Patience is hard. And that acceptance thing — yes. Are you considering doing POD of your books, too, so they can be supplied to indie bookstores?

      One-fifth of the way into the plan is good! Just make sure you celebrate your milestones along the way, to help you keep that perspective. πŸ˜€

  3. Steph says:

    I used to feel that way about the “acceptance” thing until I realized the only people who weren’t accepting of me as a real writer were other writers. My readers had already accepted me as a *real* writer and I was making a real living wage from self-pubbed material. Once you realize that you’re just as professional (i.e. making a real living wage – the definition of professional is technically that you are making a real wage doing it) as the traditionally published, the whole “acceptance” thing is somewhat moot, imho. The readers have already voted. πŸ™‚

    • Erin says:

      Good reminders, and definitely true in these days where both agents and publishers are trolling the lists of the self-published to try to discover the new next big thing (or at least one that they can milk for money after all the work of establishing an audience has already been done!).

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