There are days, hopefully not too many when we wonder if we’ve made good choices.
The things we choose to do, like writing, are one of the more difficult life choices. We often feel called to storytelling because we have a story to tell, or something important to say. Sometimes we question how we could have possibly chosen to put ourselves on a path rife with difficulty and disappointment.
Writing, although rewarding, is fraught with bumps and potholes along a difficult path. There are days –ask any writer who has been at this for any length of time, and they will tell you–there are days when you are not sure you’re capable of reading a comic book much less writing a good story.
Does every writer suffer from the self-doubt which evokes the fear of failure and rejection in some of us?
I think so. I have never met a writer who doesn’t suffer for their art. Some will minimize it. Some will aggrandize it. Many will ignore it, assuming it’s only their insecurity, but almost everyone I know who writes for a living will tell you they love the job they’ve chosen–writing.
They will also tell you, there are days when nothing can be done effectively.
Most successful writers have the attitude that this is what I chose and so i need to just get on with it. Do the job, write the book, tell the story.
After all, it is by labor and grim effort with sometimes painful resolve that we finish what we start.
Just write the damn book.