I've been working on a novel called Manila 2060, in its present incarnation, since 2012. Four years isn't that bad a number when it comes to working on a novel. However, adding the years even before, circa 2006 or thereabouts, when I first came up with the idea, it does feel that I've been working on this forever.
I've been reading a lot about creativity and writing and making art, notably books by Julia Cameron, Claire Cook, and recently, Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. And of course there's the binge-watching of TED Talks.
One message rings loud and clear: there is art that you make because you must.
Now if only I can quiet the voice in my head that complains that I'm too old, I'm taking too much time, I'm never going to finish it, and nobody's ever going to read it anyway.
Even if I am too old and there are tons of books out there, so what? None of them is my book. Part of me would be so relieved to find my book out there, already written for me, but, no, sadly, I have to be the one to do it. (And, yes, there is personal pride there that knows I'm the only one who can write the book in my head.)
So what if no one reads it? I'm writing it for me. It is helping me heal and process what the past four years have meant for me. And nobody will be able to appreciate that book more than I can. (And love it to bits when it's sitting in front of me, ready to be read again and again.)
So, dear me, please be a little more patient. I know it's taking forever. But I'm getting there.
Meantime, enjoy the process. And do what you can. You're getting there. You just have to believe that it's waiting for you at the finish line.
Meantime, keep your nose to the grindstone and good luck.