Okay, I don’t normally post three times in twenty-four hours, but it just so happened three blog fests fell on the same day for me. I’m sweating bullets trying to keep up with the blog-o-sphere today!
But anyways, I’ve decided to join the Insecure Writer’s Support Group because, let’s face it, aren’t we all? This group is put together by Alex J. Cavanaugh so that we poor, unconfident and self-doubting writers can share with and support one another. Today, the first Wednesday of the month (and thus the reason for my final post today), I am supposed to share some of my writing insecurities – of which there are legions.
I thought I’d start by talking about something I love. I LOVE to read. I’d read all day every day if people would let me. Most people have a favorite genre they stick to, but I don’t. I’ll read pretty much anything with words. Still, like most people I do have my favorites – both books and writers.
If I had to chose a list of my top five favorite writers, I’d have to go with Joss Whedon, Mary Shelley, Lewis Carroll, Aldous Huxley and, of course, the fabulous J. K. Rowling. Not only do they tell one hell of a story, but they write in such an amazing and vivid way that I flat out get lost in their work.
But then, here’s the problem. There’s no way I’m as good a writer as these five – they’re incredible. They’re famous and world-renowned, while meanwhile I’m still struggling with adverbs and repetition. Sure, I think I come up with some cool stories, but my writing . . . let’s just say it’s not up to their standards.
I remember the day I finished reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (about twenty hours give or take after it came out at its midnight release). I put the book down, looked over at my desk where my current manuscript sat waiting and said – no way. There’s NO WAY I can finish it knowing how terrible it is in comparison to Rowling’s masterpiece.
Now, I will admit over time I stopped whining and got back to work. I mean, my characters were still inside my head throwing tempter-tantrums as they wait to get out. But that little nagging fear in the back of my head that says “you’ll never live up to your idols”, well, let’s just say it stays with me daily.
But hopefully, with the support of other insecure writers like myself, I shut it up with a cookie or something. Fingers crossed . . .