I forgot how humiliating it is to create things with inexpertise. I’ve started on another project after finishing my last one for the IFComp and just as I’m getting to tough and frustrating problems with coding and scripting, I go back to my just-finished project and find that the last touches and the final edits are all missing. I literally, just yesterday, emptied my trash, two weeks after finishing the project, and now find that maybe there would have been an archive in there that saved my final work. The version I currently have, the latest archive, the current file on my computer, and the file I submitted, are all old.
The final touches and edits are relatively minor. The few typos and whatever simple changes are lost in all the other imperfections so it isn’t damning, just disappointing. Having made changes, having improved the work, having spent hours of time on it and then for it to not be there, it’s sad. It feels wasted. Yet, I think of old DnD campaigns and books I’ve read and stories I’ve written, and it doesn’t matter to me if I can’t remember them or if I’ll never interact with them again. They still existed, they still counted.
Though may just be it Perhaps it doesn’t feel like it counted because it wasn’t part of the final form. Maybe that’s a fair thing to mourn. Although, like everything, as time passes, it will be forgotten. I can relive them or move on and avoid the future mistake of unsaved progress and unshared effort.