![]() I recently wrote about the frustrations of too many almosts. Look, I'm writer. That means I'm needy external approval. I know on a rational level I have no cause to feel like I do. I've sold stuff damn it! But there's been this fear circling. The fear is simple. What if I've peaked? What if I get stuck here? Almostville is a kind of purgatory watered and firmly planted with doubt. I find myself questioning things like the structural choices I've made with My Father's Heart. (The first draft is finally complete.) Mostly, I'm questioning what I should work on next. This is where an agent would come in real handy. She or he could just tell me what they could sell easiest and I'd work on that. Maybe this is akin to prostitution, but I've never written stories for some higher purpose. I write because I'm compelled to tell stories and, above all else, share them. A catchy song gets you to buy the CD and you quickly discover songs you like better, songs that never get played on the radio. The same goes for writers. A catchy story introduces people to your body of work. But I'm stuck in Almostville. I know the only way out is to write my fingers to the bone, but part of me, the masochistic part, seems to prefer self-doubt and worry. D Comments are closed.
|
Categories
All
Archives
May 2022
|