Since then I've been working on improving my writing, including reading what other people have written and soaking up writing guides and how tos. But those darned voices just don't want to be patient. They can't wait for me to have the ideal time to write or the ideal way of writing. So I just keep writing down what they tell me and adding to their number constantly. It's like a snowball that starts out small but the longer it travels downhill, the more snow it picks up and it keeps getting bigger and bigger and rolling faster and faster. That's how my brain works--once I latch onto an idea, more and more ideas start clamoring for my attention.
So why don't I have a shelf full of novels that have at least been self-published? Because I am a perfectionist. And a procrastinator. I have this gigantic wall in front of me that flashes in neon lights telling me that if I can't write it out perfectly, then why start? And so I just continue to hammer out the outlined details. Do I think it actually needs to be perfect right out of the gate? Not at all. But that wall sure seems to get bigger and bigger despite what my logical brain says.
And who knows? Maybe someday I'll actually have something worth printing.