Listening to: Chickens squaking in the garden - we've let them roam free
Reading: The Street Lawyer by John Grisham
Crisis of Confidence
Writers I suppose, are a little like actors. They put a lot of effort into their creation or character, then prositute themselves or their work and wait by the phone, or the post box or the PC to find out if anyone likes what they do enough to say yes! Last week I had a particularly bad case of the confidence jitters which ran over into my Friday night. Not a pretty sight. And I know that JK and Virginia Woolf and many other writers with far more skill than I, were rejects, like the rest of us. But sometimes you forget that. Sometimes you think that you couldn't repeat the alphabet let alone write something that is meaningful. And when that happens remedial action needs to be taken because it eats away at you and if you believed everything that negative gremlin who sits on your shoulder nibbling at your consience, well, you'd never pick up a pen again. So I'm back here at my desk and now have got that rubbish of my chest, it's time to move on with renewed energy and a pot of positveness (can you get it in pots?). Until the next time.
Confucius Says...
'I am irritated by my own writing. I am like a violinist whose ear is true, but whose fingers refuse to reproduce precisely the sound he hears within.' Gustave Flaubert
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