Wednesday, June 29, 2011

That Bad, huh?

I imagine some of you have written things, and given them to others to read. I don't know why, but every time I do this I get butterflies in my tummy. I pace back and forth and wonder if they think it's going to be garbage.

That always leads to the thought that it probably is garbage and I'm just wasting my time going down a literary path.

Then I always tell myself that I'll just keep writing because practice makes perfect, right?

Although if no one likes this, and this is my voice, doesn't that make me doomed?

Then again, writing brings me sanity, and well, you get the point.

Of all the things I could choose to spend my time doing, I choose writing. The most emotionally draining, sweat inducing, unprofitable thing in the world. Of course I can say the same thing about motherhood, which is the other thing I spend my time on.

I just have to ask myself, why I'm going through this torture? Do I really I have a bestselling book on my hands? No, honestly, I don't. Yet, I'm still pushing forward. I really don't know that I'll ever be published, but I do know I want to finish this. I can't go through my life asking what if?

I'm finishing my book because I need to know that I can follow something through to the end. That, and I'm rather attached to the story. Maybe a little too attached. I'm not sure anyone can love it like I do.

I want to know, how have you guys coped with others reading your work, and critiquing it? Anything to help me calm my nerves. Because really, I'm just a big softy.

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