There is a little devil in me that hates for me to succeed. I have lived with this little devil all my life. This devil in my brain is a saboteur. Time and time again I get so close to wonder, so close to real creation then I change tacks and wander off to something else. Sabotaging myself. 
Yesterday was the day I was going to send my last piece of writing to my mentor for her to look at it and make notes before the final edit. The whole book of letters to my sister is ready except for my own piece. My own letter to my sister. The inspiration for the book. In fact the crux of the book.
I only have the tiniest of edits to do before I can release it.
So yesterday I went shopping. I collected books from all over the house and filled the book shelves in The Coupe. I ordered semen for the cows. I booked all the flights for John’s son to come home on leave. I ordered more chicks for a second run of chooks for the freezer. I shifted hay from one side of the barn to the other. I moved all the stock about the farm. I dug out the North door again. Then I rearranged my bedroom, rearranged the linen cupboard, I stripped the bed and then I did more laundry than a sane person should be doing. I threw out all the clothes I will never wear again and hauled the bags to the car. I sat in the long grass and photographed animals.I weeded and watered into the night. I turned the volume up on my talking book (The Good House by Ann Leary. So far it is a great listen). 
For the last two days I have done everything but write. I had to stop myself starting the endless work of booking my tickets to NZ in October. I must get onto that, My little devil said. I mean I really must!
I allowed my Little Devil to drag me down the road of sabotage. Maybe I had done enough I thought. Maybe it would be alright without another edit. Maybe it did not need that much polishing. No-one would mind surely. I am not that important. All the other letters are wonderful. I am little, no-one will notice. Punctuation is for sissies, said my little demon.
My little devil needs a good kick.
The book: Letters to My Sister must be brought into the light. Collecting all 63 of your beautiful letters to my sister about menopause is probably one of the most important things I have ever done. The art department is already at work. The printers are being priced. All we need is for me to finish my letter and then write my bio. So I am going to take the next two days off from the blog and I am going to rewrite the bloody thing then send it to my darling mentor.
Starting now.
There. No more sabotaging myself right at the cusp. I need to break that cycle. I have you now.
Your friend
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
60 responses to “Sabotage”
Oh, I get this too, except mine means that I get nothing, zero, zilch accomplished. Self-saboutage. It’s why I didn’t write my piece about menopause, why I’ve spent this afternoon working … partly learnt behaviour that I haven’t got shot of from past depression, and partly the effects of the menopause itself (which I why I wanted to write about it). Bleh. I have a twelve-year-old son and a life I’d like to lead, so I need to find myself answers and strategies. You can do it… you write beautifully, you have a mentor to help you out, and a great desire to do this task. You will get it done! All strength, focus, concentrations and the right words in the right order to you.
What’s for supper 😉
My gosh! I wish I did as much as you … but you are right sometimes our mind is our worst enemy 🙂
I see we are all in great company.
You could just think of it as creative procrastination……don’t beat yourself up, sometimes our inner artist knows that a pause is needed, kind of like when you rest meat after it’s been cooked and before you taste it, or when you turn the heat off under the soup and give it that little waiting space before the next step. Your writing is like a yoga practise, resting asanas while your body absorbs and releases, then on to the next……perhaps in your case some apprehension about re-reading your story and the memories and losses it conjures. Be gentle on Self 🙂
An animal pow wow, gotta love it. I wonder what they talked about.
Good for you. You are outwitting your little devil. It’s amazing how much housework/farmwork etc gets done when a writer is avoiding writing! At least you’ve spotted the little devil. It’s when they lurk in the unconscious that we are powerless. Flush them out into the light of day and we have whole new choices. Good luck with the writing. (Are you setting yourself too high a standard? Do you think you have to write the best piece of the 63? If so, forget it, and be good enough!)
Oh mercy no, no-one is best, that is the wonderful thing about the collection and my letter to my sister is actually TO my sister and I want it right, plus the foreword, collating the bio’s, acknowledgements, checking everyone has their work in, their names right, their releases in..checking everyones work for typos spacings etc. The List, many other bits and pieces when creating an anthology. Plus now we are doing the cover of the book, my own bio and etc, etc.. Raising the money and etc.. You know! Just that stage.. a wee bit manic.. I am enjoying it though.. now back to work for me!!.. c
All the normal mass of detail when a project is coming to a conclusion I know it well. Lots of focus is required for this stage.
It is exhausting, I always read before I go to bed and the last few weeks i have fallen face down into the pillow and – lights out! c
I know this so well! But satisfying too, especially when it’s all done and you hold the book in your hand.
Yes, that will be such an amazing feeling.. it has been a wonderful collaboration.. c
I know that devil well. Good luck!
Knock it out, Miss C! Love the young ones, and Sheila, of course!
The longer you wait, the more you think about ‘it’, the more of an ‘exceptional problem’ it will become . . . . you are a natural in writing and superclear in thinking . . . . just go with the proverbial flow, put it behind you and get on with the next hundred things on your calendar . . . . says eha-mama . . . .
I started writing one for Letters to My Sister, and then got whisked away in the annual planting frenzy here on the farm. So I understand procrastination. So I am there in spirit. I will buy the book. You will get it done.
My 85 year old mother (the one who still has hot flashes) declares to me whenever she has a “procrastination free day”. Her way of dealing with the sabatoge. I think it took her 75 years to figure that one out. I haven’t tried it yet.
We all experience this terrible affliction –that’s what it is all right. Steady as you go!
This, of course, is why you’ll do so well when you write those children’s books about the farmy, because you just *know* that Sheila will want to be writing them herself, perhaps with a little oversight from Daisy, and you’ll be hard pressed to get a word in edgewise!
xo
K
Get to it miss c – go for it!