When did writing become so difficult? I can’t seem to reach back and grab that great wonderful feeling when the words flowed and all I worried about was how soon could get away and seclude myself into that delicious little world I was creating, word by word, line by line.
Nowadays, it’s become somewhat of a whirlwind of self-doubt and malicious whispers of ‘wannabe!’ This wasn’t who I was two years ago. Two years ago, I was churning them out faster than I could submit them. Of course, my writing is much better these days, but why has the flood choked itself into just a trickle?
I don’t have the answer to this, but it makes me sad nonetheless. I want the self-doubt to go away. I want the bubble of insignificance which is currently burying me under its weight, to dry up and disappear, because if it doesn’t, I fear I will be lost for good.
Push, push, push. That’s what everyone says. Push through it like Larry Fitzgerald on any given Sunday. Well,sometimes that’s easier said than done. How many of us have given that same advice, with a cheery nod and an award winning smile? Most of us, I’ll wager. And I’ll up the ante by saying that those words probably came the easiest to our lips after we’d just finished a short story, just finished hitting ‘send’ on that electronic submission. Or right after we received that much anticipated email from an editor, with the little attachment symbol winking at us with glee. Yes, at that point, all the advice and encouragement flows from us like waterfalls.
I have heard numerous times, ‘If it begins to be a burden, that’s when you should stop writing.’ Or, ‘if you’re not enjoying it, it’s time to stop.’ Well, bullshit. And not because I don’t believe it; quite the contrary, it’s completely true. The thing is, though. I’m not ready to quit. Hell, to be honest, I’m not much of a quitter at all, no matter how small or insignificant the job is. So, to let myself get beaten out of something I love, something I’m good at, well, that just isn’t going to happen.
Bottom line, I don’t have a choice. I just don’t have a choice.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thanks for listening.