I enjoy writing fiction. I’ve been doing it since I was eight years old, and I fancied myself a pretty good writer for a long time. I used to think I had nothing to learn, that I knew it all and was at the top of my game.
Maybe I was. But I’m not any more.
I’m having trouble starting and finishing written works because I just don’t believe that anyone wants to read them. I keep thinking I’m no good, people that compliment me are just being polite, and the criticisms I get are all very real and the only honest judgement of my writing. I just don’t think I’m very good any more- or even moderately good.
I realize this is a self-esteem problem and the only way to solve it is to start writing, writing, and writing- but for some reason this week I’ve been depressed all the time, and instead of walking (which I enjoy) or writing fiction, I navel-gaze or sleep.
I am writing this blog post mostly because I want to spend time writing things- even if no one reads them. I intentionally do not advertise this blog because for the most part I don’t really want it to be read. I know that’s a bit strange, but it soothes me to put something out there, just as it soothes me to know it’s not being read (and judged) by strangers.
I wonder, as I type this, if this fear of judgement is part of what my problem with writing is, and it occurs to me that I need to find healthy ways to overcome this fear. Reading up on this topic and contemplating it are going on my list of things to work on.