I am the center of my universe. Most of us are. Today on this sunny Monday morning I am shamefully over obsessing about myself. Specifically my writing.
I wonder do all writers both love and hate their work as I do? When I am in the midst of expelling a story from my mind it can be bliss. In those moments when everything comes together on the page, I can actually love myself. It is the times before when I am not writing (the whole time thinking I should be) and the times after as I review (and judge) my work where I don’t much like myself.
Do other writers judge their work as I do? I wonder if my stories are too camp? Are the comedies too cheesy, is the non-fiction too preachy? The thing is… I like campy and corny and cheesy, I like funny and silly. If I liked dark and mysterious that’s probably what I’d write – right? …(you see how I defend myself to myself)
When it comes to my blog… I sometimes think about posting my opinion. Adding my two cents regarding current issues and popular trends. I haven’t and I don’t because I fear this might sully my blog page. I wonder if I released a rant or two into the world would it spread negative energy?
Wow! that is a lot of insecurity for a sunny Monday morning.