Before I left on this trek across these here United States of America I was full of excitable hype for the release of Crashed America. And then it didn’t happen, because I’m an unreliable bastard. Well, partially because I’m an unreliable bastard at least.
In the few days before I left I was putting a lot of hours into making the final edits, trying to get things as right as I could get them and as the clock counted down I felt that gnawing lack of certainty rising up inside me. I won’t say there was anything objective to it, the novel as it stands is what it is and from most who’ve read it, my much messed around editor included, I’ve heard some pretty good things. But the closer you get to a thing the harder it gets to recognise. Paranoia and self-doubt set in and I found myself struggling to finish off something which I was half-convinced was terrible. A belief which, with a few thousand miles between me and my desk, I can see for the self-created crisis of faith that it was. Not that a hefty dose of hindsight makes the failure to make decisions at the time any better of course.
Anyway, now I’ve had some time away from it, completely away from it that is, haven’t looked at Crashed America in at least a month, and my sanity has slowly started to return to me. When I get back I’ll read it through with as much objective distance as I can muster, decide on its value and go from there. Hopefully I’ll be able to regain that love that I once had and follow through on my plans to release it, because while I’m the worst person to judge it others who I’ve got plenty of time for have a very different view of things from mine.
And on the plus side my travels have actually proven quite productive, albeit not in the way I first thought they would be. I’ve finished the first draft of a novella, which after editing will definitely be released. I’ve written a huge amount of poetry, which is a bit of a guilty habit of mine but that too will be making an appearance around the place and I’ve generally enjoyed the wandering life. Lots of good people, some bad, some adventures and some misadventures and all the perspective that life lived on Greyhound buses can give you. Which is quite a lot when compared to the daily routine of life in one place.
So when I get back at the start of March big things are due and it’s about damn time too.