It’s not really up for debate. They have to be. If they weren’t, they’d never write a lick.
Remember that dream you had as a kid, where you showed up to school in your undies? No? I never had it either. But you can imagine what that would feel like. Writing is much like that. The question is, do you look good in your undies, or have you missed a few appointments at the gym?
That’s what it’s like to write. You write your soul out on a piece of paper (or internet blog) and you sit and wait…and wait…and wait. And then you wonder, maybe I should take it down? Maybe no one liked it? What if I spelled something wrong? So you go back and reread it. It’s flawless. If it’s flawless why has no one commented on it?
And at some point in this never-ending circle of paranoia you had to step back and say, it’s done, I’m walking away from it.
Walking away isn’t a sign of giving up. It’s a sign of letting go, which are two totally different things.
If writers were to sit and fret about every single thing we write and put out to the public, we would waste away with worry. And we nearly do. So there comes a point when we have to let it go. We have to be courageous.
It may be the best thing we’ve ever written, but if someone doesn’t recognize it, our ego takes a serious blow. Writers are good fishermen. We fish for compliments like it’s our job. But it’s not. Writing is.
Writing is scary. Writing is hard. Writing makes me angry.
But writing is also fulfilling. It’s creative. It’s a way of showing you who I am.
Not many people understand that. And that’s okay. I don’t expect anyone but a writer (or avid reader) to really get what I mean. I just want you to appreciate what I’m saying, even if you don’t get it.
Why am I writing this? I don’t really know. A lot of people have started following my blog lately and quite a few of those are family and friends, and that adds a bit of pressure to this previously strangers-only blog. So hopefully you continue to enjoy my posts, and hopefully you at least have a sense of how I feel every time I hit “post.” You may think you’re reading a few paragraphs because you’re bored, but what you’re really doing is reaching into my gut and seeing what stuff I’m made of.
Hope you’re not too squeamish.