I’ve been stressing out
a lot lately about this story. Everyone that I talk to wants to read it, and
it’s one of those things that I’ve been working on for my master’s thesis and
it should be amazing, so I’m afraid that it’s starting to get too much hype.
It’s starting to get to the point where I’m trying to make something that I’d
like, but I’m afraid that everyone that has been around me has too high of
expectations so it won’t be worth it. Every time that I start writing in it I
start to wonder, am I rambling, am I putting enough details in, am I explaining
enough am I showing other things, am I writing the story the way that it needs
to be written, am I putting out something that is a good definition of what I
can do when writing?
I can’t just write to
write. I can’t write because that’s what I’m thinking and I want to get it out,
I’m writing now because it has to be the best I can do, I’m not comfortable
with my skills because I’m constantly second guessing myself. I’m constantly
thinking about what if what I’m writing isn’t good enough? What if this never
has the opportunity to get published? What if. . . ? That’s the question that I
touch every time I open up that document, what if. I can write a whole bunch of
other things, like this blog for example, but that story, that story is what
everything is revolving around, that is what I went to school for, it should be
amazing. It should be memorable, it should be everything, and I’m deadly afraid
that it isn’t, and that’s when it gets scary, because instead of thinking about
the story and trying to write the story, I’m thinking about all of the
technical sides of writing, I’m thinking about the techniques of writing, I’m
thinking about the mechanics of a sentence and the mechanics of a story arc
instead of just telling the story like it needs to be told. I’m thinking about
if the character arcs make sense, I’m thinking about everything in the world in
that story besides the actual story, and it’s making my writing that much
worse.
Writing isn’t fun right
now, and I’m afraid that it might never be fun again. It’s fun to write what I
want to write and not have to worry about publication, it’s not fun to think
about if what I’m writing is going to pay bills and get me any sort of income.
I know that Alicia loves me and would love me if I’m a failed author, but she’d
sure love paying for all of that master’s degree if I could actually use it and
didn’t show nothing for it. It’s always depressing to know that I’ve been
working on this thing for TEN YEARS (seriously, I have been, I started writing
the concept of DA ten years ago, did a first draft of if 8-9 years ago
(sometime on my mission) and then it sat around and I restarted it a year ago).
It’s a different draft, trying to use everything I learned, and making it a
legitimate story, but I’m just worried that I’m not up to it. My confidence in
myself right now and my writing ability is not that high.
I hate visiting family.
This is what happens when I visit family, I second guess myself.
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