Strange little girl, where are you going?
Moving is a lot like revising, both of which I tend to think of a little too soon. Right now, it matters that I finish this school year, write a lot, enjoy time with friends and this town. Right now in the writing, it matters that I do it, that the characters get from point A to point Z, the small town to the city. But all I want to do is go back and change what they said when they dropped the drink and the bourbon glass smashed on the floor. I want to get rid of my couch and kitchen table and chairs and walk through overpriced studios with a pencil in my hair.
A poet, possibly Richard Hugo, possibly in his wonderful book on writing: The Triggering Town, said however much time you spend worrying about publishing and promoting, you should spend more time on the actual writing, the getting-it-out, the filling-it-up.
I could be wrong about that, but I think it is true.