I sit in my office and pretend I have Writer's Block. The Writer's Block is a lie, a poor excuse. Writing about it is even more of a time sink. Yet, here I sit.
There are stories thrown about in disorganized heaps in my brain. The most recent one, a short story, is on the cusp of getting into the real plot, the meat of it. It's all there, in that pile. Waiting to be typed out. I say I have Writer's Block. The real truth is, I am scared.
I am scared that what I write won't do the story justice. It won't be true to it. It just won't be good enough. I'm scared that what I am trying to communicate comes across skewed and lackluster. That it is boring. I know the story lying in that heap isn't boring but I am afraid what gets translated to paper will be. Who am I to be the one that takes it from it's idea pile and gives it life? I am not qualified for this.
So I say I have Writer's Block. Really though, all I have is a clump of Self Doubt.
Often writers get viewed as shy, withdrawn individuals. There is some truth to that. The real truth though, is that writing takes a lot of guts. A TON of guts. It's such a personal process. Every story is a part of the person who wrote it. And to put it out there, for the world to see...well, you may as well be standing naked in a room full of people.
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