Beginning a new piece of work is one of the most intimidating tasks a writer can face. After devoting gallons of blood, sweat, and tears to one project, one can feel so drained that starting something new is beyond your abilities as a being of crude, organic matter to accomplish. Indeed, the creative process is so taxing on emotional, mental, and even physical energy, towards the end you wonder if you are even capable of repeating it. And even if you are able to muster the will to embark upon a new endevour, you’ll sometimes feel as though you are comitting infidelity by diverting your gaze from one idea to another. These feelings are perfectly natural for an artist to feel, as creative people have stronger instincts for self-correction than most; it’s not uncommon to want to spend as much time as humanly possible with a piece of prose, picking it apart sentence-by-sentence and word-by-word, pruning and nurturing it until blooms perfectly; it’s also not uncommon to become so devoted to your work, that you consider installing a catheter into your body so that you won’t have to waste precious seconds walking to and from the bathroom.
But, if we want to accomplsh great things as writers, sometimes we must ignore our instincts and think rationally. And when we do look at writing rationally, we realize that spending too much time on one piece of work can cause us to become too accustomed to certain characters, settings, and ideas, and force ourselves into a creative rut. We need to be open and flexible, otherwise our creative sensibilities may be come dull.