I have a confession to make.
I am a.... Procrastinator.
Don't faint in horror! In this era we do not have fainting couches, like those enviable women of past centuries with their teensy weency corsets & bodices. No, we have hardwood floors. Ouch.
The point of my confession is this: I have had a really good childrens' story in my head for quite a few years now, which I keep on meaning to write. At one point in my years of doodling, sketching and scribbling, I even wrote a few pages! Yet, for some inexplicable reason, I stopped. I didn't get bored of it, I didn't think it wasn't worth it, heck, I didn't even run out of time to do it. I simply thought to myself "I'll finish it tomorrow."
Let me fill you all in on a little secret.. Tomorrow never comes. At least, it didn't for my story.
And so I, a woman with a professed desire to become a published author/artist, gave in to my despicable procrastinating ways and left my wonderful little story to rot in a drawer full of old sketches and pencilcrayon shavings. I should be ashamed of myself, and I am!
Therefore, I have vowed that never again will I crumble before the feet of the Doom of Good Ideas! Because the more I procrastinate, the less I get done. Funny how that works, eh?