A post I read long ago on the Tumblr blog, "Keyboard Smash Writers!," tackled the subject of writer's self-doubt (albeit indirectly). Of course, their article is more practical than mine, less rambling, and probably just better overall. They offer real suggestions about how and when to fit writing into a busy school schedule. (By the way, here's a master post from them. They discuss the "inner critic" in many of their posts, and they're just great.)
However, despite having read this article about how to conquer the habit of writing so long ago, I feel that I don't write as much as I should. Like, anywhere nearas much. And I've been forced to realize that this can't merely be chalked up to being busy. As part of the Odyssey community, I'm sure I'm among many who understand this pain. Part of the reason I even picked up this gig was so that, once a week, I had to write something. Something! Yet here I sit, at the tail end of each seven-day period, waiting till the last minute to choose a topic, second-guessing myself. Driving my poor, sweet, hardworking editors crazy by missing deadlines.
Though this may seem counter-intuitive, I think it can be extremely tough to actively and consistently do what we love. Often, I've wondered if I really do love writing, or if I'm just doing it because I think I should, or because I always have. If you've asked yourself this question, too, I'm sure you've come to the same conclusion I have: Of course I love it. I love stories. I want to tell a good one. I have things to say, and I want to say them well.
But if that's the case, why is it so difficult to squeeze out a single word on some days? Why does one page take hours, then still feel wrong, somehow? Why do I feel like the worst writer on earth whenever I write?
This is an obstacle, I'm sure, with which every writer has struggled. Indeed, I believe it's an obstacle anyone pursuing their passion, whatever that may be, has faced. The things that matter are hard. The things that matter most to us are especially hard. We wouldn't love writing if we didn't fear it. If we didn't believe words had power, we would brandish them recklessly.
That said, I think it's time we took them down from their pedestal. It's all well and good to revere our craft, but it's neither well nor good when we revere it too much to believe we could never even dream of participating. For some of us writers, the blank page is terrifying. But I know it's calling you as loudly as it calls me. So let's go forth into the breach, dear friends, and wield our pens without fear.
