This post was almost over before it began.
Staring at the screen before me, the cursor blinking impatiently at me to commence my dance with the keyboard, my mind mulled over the question being posed by writer Sarah Wayland. Yet, frustratingly, much like the canvas before me, it kept coming up blank.
What could I possibly have to offer, I wondered with unease, that might sound as if it could match with many of the experts who’d linked to this theme already?
All I could hear ringing in my own ears was the whisper “wannabe writer”, thwarting my any attempt at conveying knowledge on the topic I (ironically) love the most. It taunted me, calling me an amateur who hovers on the fringe, too scared to take that leap of faith because the fear of failure handcuffed me to the fence post I’d far too long been sitting upon.
The angel creeps out onto my shoulder then and reminds me of those sweet successes I’ve tasted, but she is soon joined by that pesky devil, duelling for control of my mind. It tempers my thoughts with the recollection of stinging rejections; ones that made me cower and question whether I have the ability to make it in such a cut-throat industry.
Procrastination, the pitch-fork toting red devil reminds me, is an ever present enemy as well, shadowing me constantly. Much like a feline, it waits in hiding, ready to pounce when its prey is at its most vulnerable. Dining off my anxiety on the dark days of second guessing my ability, it offers me up all sorts of seductive excuses on why I should just not bother with the battle on this day.
But then my white winged friend strikes the winning blow in this battle of wills. She harks back to those oh so heady days when it all just works. When the words simply flow, bursting forth like a sprinkler in the summer sun. When it is intoxicating, a natural high, and ultimately why I keep going back for more. This is the drug I crave, when the sentences string together like freshwater pearls, shining, delightful, revered… It is worth every day of duelling with procrastination, with second guessing, with inevitable rejections when it effortless, and your heart sings with joy.
Writing truly the most personal journey you can ever undertake, offering up your words, ideas, thoughts, feelings to the world. It is a craft so very individual and there honestly are no set rules (well, besides you know, actually writing) to success because everyone has different objectives in what they want to achieve. Some just need to empty the overflow of paragraphs that clutter their consciousness, others desire fame or monetary gain. For me, it is a sprinkling of all of the above.
So, what do I know about writing? That both love it and loathe it, and that even when I feel least like I know anything at all, I should remind myself to act like one. I’ll fake it til I make it, if nothing else.
Jodi aka Lipgloss Mumma says
A beautiful post Donna to which I can relate all too well (especially that pesky devil!) – Jodi x
Sarah - That Space In Between says
I love that you call me a writer D…what an awesome thing for someone to say. I always feel like an imposter in the writing world, my social work background and my research means that Im so focussed on writing about others I forget about the art of writing in the first place. The days where it just works is bliss. I completely agree. Take care and thanks so much for linking up x
I still can’t remove the ‘writer’ inverted commas, maybe I never will. All I know about writing is that time flies while I’m doing it. x
Torre – Fearful Adventurer says
I still can’t comfortably own the word writer, even though my book is being published. When I try on that word, I feel like a man walking in heels.