I stumbled across this blog today by Alex J. Cavenaugh. He put together a group of bloggy types who also happen to be neurotic writers. Sounds like my kind of people, right?
He calls this list The Insecure Writer's Support Group. If you write in some form or another, you should check it out. Fun group of people. I'm supposed to list off things I worry about or things I've overcome.
What I've overcome: Knowing my writing is good enough.
Writers have issues with confidence. I know this makes us sound a little pathetic, like we sit around and worry while we type.
We do. I used to worry about my writing, if it was good enough. I'm past that stage. I know it's good. I've written long enough and read so many books that I can safely say my novel is a polished piece of art. I'm excited to release it. I know people will love it, be astonished at the twists, cry a little when someone dies, and get a rush of adrenaline when the characters overcome an obstacle. This took years of practice and research, but I'm positive I'm an excellent writer.
This doesn't mean I've stopped worrying.
Now I worry about money and marketing. Will it pay the bills? Can I sell enough to make this indie publishing thing worthwhile? How do I market to many many people? Do I start looking for a real job now...or next week? If I hide in the pantry and cry, will I feel better? Don't worry. I don't actually cry in the pantry. It's too small.
Writing is hard and scary. Think about it. Language is so ethereal. We take sounds and stick them to letters. Clump a few letters together and you have a word. Throw some words together and you have a sentence. Line up enough sentences and a story forms out of those small representations of sounds. Crazy isn't it? Can you get more abstract? Language is the most fragile and powerful of constructions. I am grateful to be a part of that, even if I feel lost sometimes.
Writing takes practice, work, luck, and time. Being good isn't always enough, but we all hope it will be when we set our little creations free for everyone to read and judge. Hope, just four little representatives for random sounds, is all we have.