Oof, I will admit it, I completely sacrificed finishing my novel within the bounds of Nanowrimo for school work. I couldn't handle both. I am weak. WEAK!!!!
I don't actually feel guilty. I've proven to myself that I can do the whole "novel in a month" scenario... now, lets see if I can write a good novel in... say, 4 months.
I spent about 10 minutes this evening reading through an old book of poetry from about 7 years ago.
Yikes.
Of course, everyone looks back on their old writings and cringes. It would derail the process of improving if you didn't, I suspect.
It's not that I think everyone should throw out their old work, or deny it... far from it. It's always fun and a little silly to go back and re-read. Still, no point buying a house and living there, in the past... let's see, I think it was Patricia McKillip (Ok, I admit, I know it was her, I'm typing the quote out the book right now to make sure I get it right) that said of her "Riddle Master" series, "It is, and will always be, closest to my childhood's heart, the heart of whoever that young woman was who wrote those novels." It isn't her favorite work, and she could not write it again now, just out of pure... change. Growth? Experience? Change of opinion? Another reason?
I'm going to go write now.
