I don't fancy myself a writer, though I enjoy the act of writing very much. I love crafting a sentence, reading and rereading it, tooling around with structure and word choice until it vibrates in just the right way. I love the act of forcing myself to organize an argument, to choose a position, to detail an idea, to pin down an emotion. However, I am plagued by the knowledge that no one, anywhere, at any time, is interested in anything I have to say; that I'm wasting valuable time and resources pretending that they do. In short, I have The Doubt.
Jay Smooth would say my Little Hater is in full effect. He would not be wrong.
When I was younger I entertained the notion of writing as a career - but the words in my head simply were not clamoring for release and I chose a different route. I'm immensely happy in that. I made the right decision. I do something I love, something that enables me to spend a good deal of time writing for myself, and sometimes for you.
I've never since thought that I was meant to be a writer and I am doubly sure of this after having devoured the posts on Patrick Eamonn's nascent blog, The Last of the Carter Babies. I know this because when I read Patrick Eamonn's blog about writing - I realize that I never felt 1/100th of the passion and drive that fuels his artistic fire. I urge you to check it out, whether or not you write. Because we all have passions and a fire to fuel.
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