The Enemy of the Good

There's a lot of things you have to do right if you are to build success as a writer, whatever success even is. I feel the distance between my aspirations and my reality. I know I need to get better at Twitter. I need to tweet more. I need to engage more, interact more. I need to tweet more pictures, use the right hashtags, jump into the trending conversations. I need to build my followers.

I know that I need to start more publishing projects, projects of my own in addition to projects with others. I need to submit even more work than I have already, even in the face of rejection, especially in the face of rejection.

I know that I need to self-promote more, far more, than I do. I haven't blogged about Creep for weeks--that is an oversight. I need to promote this site more often, in more places, more effectively.

I know that I should have written a blog post yesterday, but I also know that I encountered a bonus work meeting, an unmovable deadline, one extra family obligation, an evening commitment, and--of all things--a Presidential motorcade before my day was done. I know that the internet does not care that my day was difficult and long.

I know that I could consider any of my sundry small failures as fatal flaws and give up on this writing lark. I could decide that my fondness for the process of forming my thoughts into coherent words that flow from my fingertips and across the tubes of the internet to you pales in comparison to my inadequacies for the task at hand. Surely, I am inadequate, unable to reach the perfect execution a dreamer seemingly needs to bend reality to his will; I know that I must resist that thinking.

I know that bending reality takes diligence of effort more than perfection of execution. Hopefully I will get better at Twitter and publishing and self-promotion and all the rest of the little things involved with carving out a niche in the world of the written word. Hopefully I will get better and better, until I am good enough to get lucky.

I know that I won't get anywhere if I let the perfect be the enemy of the good. I know that I can only succeed, whatever that means, if I at least do the best I can. I know that inevitably my best is merely good or worse, not the near perfection of both execution and outcome I dream of, but that addressing inadequacy with inaction solves nothing.

I wrote a blog post today. That's good, at least.