Eleven years later

5:31pm, pacific standard time, apartment in Chandler, Arizona, USA, Tuesday evening, June 7, 2022. This afternoon I read the manuscript of a novel I stopped working on eleven years ago. Perusing it brought back memories; who I was when I wrote it, what I hoped to accomplish when it was finished and, ultimately, what I failed to achieve when I stopped working on it. That novel was, by far, the most time and effort I had put into any piece of work, before or since. Ultimately, I gave up when I moved to California before my 40th birthday. It has been left unfinished all this time. For years, I avoided revisiting it, simply because I was convinced all I would feel was disappointment. However, that was not the case. This afternoon, reading it again, I felt two distinct emotions; first, pride, for having written something so good and two, excitement about finishing it. I am happy to say I have found my new project; I am going to clean up that piece and finally give it the ending it deserves.