Murky Waters

"It's gonna get worse before it gets better."  That's what the guy told me about the pea-green water in my pond that I can't seem to clear up.  He wore the title of  "Acquatic Specialist" on his name tag, so I suppose I should believe him, right?  But for now,  I can't even see my fish!  The poor things look punished, living out their days on death row and swimming around in stuff that looks like dirty antifreeze.  Yet, I'm supposed to do nothing while my new filtration system is busy forming its delicate little eco-system?  I could upset the balance of the entire universe if I empty the thing out and scrub it down with bleach like I want to.

"One day," he added, "You'll walk out there and the water will be crystal clear - just be patient."

Patient?  Did the man really use the "P" word with me? 

If he only knew how empty my tank of patience really is these days, and how I've exhausted every last drop of it on my manuscript(s)!  Like my pond, I'm sure the whole writing process is destined to get worse before it gets better.  Right now, the water is murky.  I can't see the bottom.  My characters are like the fish fumbling around in the dark trying to find their way (bare with me here). 

I know they're in there moving around in the story waiting for me to solve all the problems, find all the solutions, tie up all the loose ends in a neat little package and finish the thing before I'm 80!  Also, like the pond, I'm probably creating more problems for myself when I should just let things progress naturally.  Anything forced, especially when it comes to creativity, is never appealing or believable.  And since I want this story to be both, I will need to tap into my reserve tank for a bit more patience.  Then hopefully, like the man said, one day, I'll wake up and everything will be crystal clear.