One of my favorite pieces of advice is “start late, leave early” – a philosophy that guides both my writing and my social life. It’s a lesson I’ve absorbed from Jane Austen, whose own creative journey began at 14 and closed by 42.
Even though she stopped early, the six novels she published and the few fragments that followed her death remain enduring treasures.By starting her career at 14 and stepping back from the writing scene at 42, she showed that a creative life isn’t measured solely by its duration but by its impact.
What captivates me even more are the few fragments published after her death. Though incomplete, these pieces worn proudly alongside her six full-length novels like Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and Northanger Abbey offer an authentic glimpse into her creative spirit.
They remind me that raw, unpolished work can resonate as deeply as a perfected masterpiece.
I often find myself paralyzed by the pursuit of perfection, worrying over every sentence until it’s flawless. Yet, like Austen’s modest beginnings; writing first for the delight of her family.
In fact, as recounted by Joan Macintosh in the early drafts of these timeless classics, Austen originally wrote her work for the simple pleasure of sharing it with her family. This humble beginning is proof that relinquishing the need for perfection can actually yield masterpieces.
Austen’s ability to weave subtleties with keen social commentary is a reminder that the creative process isn’t about achieving perfection on the first try
I’ve learned that striving for an “adequate” first draft is not a necessary step before achieving excellence.
Anne Lamott’s advice rings true: your initial draft might be terrible, but it’s a vital part of the journey. Her words remind me that perfection isn’t the goal—it’s the journey that matters.
Technology doesn’t help me either. The constant urge to tweak every detail, even in my sleep, can keep me stuck in a loop of revisions. But the truth is, nothing we will do will ever be perfect.
We’re human, prone to make mistakes, and that very imperfection is what makes our work real and relatable.These imperfections are part of our creative story.
So, I choose to embrace imperfection. Every unfinished draft, every flawed sentence, is a stepping stone toward something better. The lesson is clear: strive not for perfection, but for progress.