More than borderline obsessed

You must be passionate, you must dedicate yourself, and you must be relentless in the pursuit of your goals. If you do, you will be successful — Steve Garvey

In recent weeks, I’ve become more and more focused — obsessed seems to be more appropriate — with finishing the first draft of my second book. I consider this my version of smelling blood and going in for the kill.

Right now, the obsession is, more precisely, about getting to an exact point in the story before other commitments rudely take me away from working with my boys and the other characters.

I wake up thinking about my boys. I go to sleep thinking about my boys. I couldn’t push them out of my mind if I tried. It’s not a case of me purposefully keeping them at the forefront of my thoughts. They were already there. In fact, they’ve made camp.

No, wait a second.

Actually, there is this crazy ass looking building they’ve built which is a definite sign that they have no intentions of leaving me alone. Not that I would ever want them to. Oh yeah, they’re also ready to fight anyone who gets in the way of what we’re doing together. Hell, I’ll even supply them with the weapons they need for the battles. Don’t ever say I never take care of my boys. In turn, they have a list of folks who are allowed to interact with me as things start to get a little intense. Believe you me, it’s going to get intense with my boys. I so badly need to continue playing and working with them even though life will get in the way.

Life can be such a douchebag. Or a sadistic bastard.

So yeah, this is a very healthy relationship I have with my boys. Some folks probably think I should be embarrassed by how I regard them. Well, here’s what I think about that thought: go fuck yourselves. If you don’t have a creative bone in your body, you have no reason to talk to me. It’s simple as that.

As I try to barrel through writing the first draft and pick up a little speed along the way, someone comes by with a bucket of ice water and figuratively dumps it on my head to remind me I have prior commitments to attend to.

Yeah, one of these days I’m just gonna lose my shit and go ballistic on the unfortunate bastard standing closest to me. And that sound you’re hearing is the sound of my boys grinding their teeth. Yeah, they don’t like sharing me. To be honest, I’m the same way with them. That list of folks who are allowed to interact with me, are the same folks who are allowed to meet my boys. Funny how that worked out.

Well, enough bitching. My boys are waiting for me.

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