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The second post of the year and we’re already to Insecure Writer’s Support Group Day.

Oy. Like the peer pressure to make resolutions isn’t hard enough, now I have to be introspective and all that before I’m 40? Dang.

Hmmmm… bloggy subjects… *sounds of flipping paper* Ah, no. That’s a little too heavy this early into the new year. *more paper rustling* What was I thinking when I jotted that down? *crash!tinkletinkletinkle* Ahhh, maaaan… That was my last standie…

Hmph. Well, I guess we’re going to have to wing it, today.

Which is pretty much what I do everyday, when it comes to writing. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing or whether or not it’s going to come out right. A bit like my cooking skills – I don’t like the recipe as given and therefore I change it and hope it doesn’t kill anyone (no deaths yet, although some have tried to get me to cover the counseling co-pays…).

Unlike my cooking, which often requires that I change a recipe drastically if I want to eat it (the joys of food sensitivities), I don’t actually have to write anything. It isn’t like someone is holding a gun to my head and screaming at me to write.

If you’ve been following this blog for the last year, you’d know that I have a few teensy little doubts about this whole “writing as more than a lightweight hobby” thing.  “Teensy” being a subjective descriptor. Some might prefer the term “neurotic,” but I digress.

Lots of self-doubt this past year. There will probably be more for 2016 as well. Despite the post in which I speak of finding purpose that I’m okay with, there’s still a lot of stark terror in my soul every time I look at the binder I’ve labeled “2020 Business Prep Year Planner.” I’ve got months listed out – each on their own page –  that I scribble goals down when they come to me. I’ve got topics I jot notes to dig deeper into – DBA or LLC? S-Corp? Pseudonym Research. Editors, cover art, author bio samples, Blahblahblah.

Let’s not forget the Writer’s Block that landed on me sometime in October. I’m still not sure that I’m ready to reopen any files or printouts. I stopped trying after Thanksgiving. It was just frustrating on a level I can’t begin to describe. Another source of doubt.

I suppose doubt is part of the game, though, isn’t it? I could decide not to play. Just walk away and dig my piggies into something else, like paint or clay or medieval masking or sewing or whatever the hell else.

But writing is a hard addiction to walk away from. Anyone who really loves it knows exactly what I mean. You might be able to turn your back on it for a while, but sooner or later, you need it. Your hands shake and you eye twitches until you write once more.

I’m an addict. Pure and simple. They say acknowledging you have an issue is the first step, but screw rehab.

I’m offering you a life of mystery, of misery, of loneliness, and adventure. More than that, I’m offering you the opportunity to make a difference and to save the world every week. Twice before Friday. Are you in?

–The Librarians; Season 1, Episode 2;  Flynn Carson

Some of what I turn out this year and the years to come might be crap. Some of it might be worth a little more than that. I’ve no doubt there’ll be some whining, and some winning. Lots of feeling lonely interspersed with bouts of maniacal genius laughter. Make a difference? Eh. Maybe. Save the world? Well, as long as I don’t completely purge all my files and notes and continue to run my back-ups responsibly, I suppose that counts.

Am I in?

Most definitely.

 

Check out the Insecure Writer’s Support Group to see more writers dish about their concerns, their solutions to various problems, or just a general fear of spiders.