Art props you up if you remain faithful to it, giving it the attention required.
Stephen King says…you must write and read every day, no exceptions.
I agree, but my faith is shaky judging myself harshly not waiting for anyone else to do it.
Why must I be my own censor, a question I ask myself every time I sit down to write. Phrases like…who cares…nobody will read this…you’re not a pro, dance in my head…oh God…if I stabbed myself with a cleaver it would hurt less.
What makes a writer successful? I’m swaying towards sales though the love of it should trump that, and I do love to write the only thing I’m sure of.
Can I be satisfied being obscure? I really only have ten loyal readers on my blog, not exactly a massive following. Often I have to ask my friends covertly to read it since it seems even they’re bored.
I guess what I’m getting at is…it might be time to take athingirl down, still a nebulous thought but one I keep having.
Blame it on health issues robbing me of so much I choose not to speak of including self-worth, but things in my life feel very hopeless.
I’m venting on the page…not looking for encouragement or sympathy so please don’t reward me with any.
In 12 Step they’d call it, forcing a solution, so maybe that’s what I’m doing…but all does not feel well on the Ponderosa.