I am feeling very insecure this morning--insecure in my abilities as a writer. I have this 800 word assignment that should be a simple thing to put together. It's an interview. Done that, now all I have to do is assimilate the information. Yeah right. All I have to do....
Yesterday, I sat for two hours trying to come up with a lead. After eight or nine attempts, I took some deep breaths and thought okay, just get it out. I finally did, but the 251 I keyed in was the most disgusting pile of drivel ever written. I took a spell at yelling at myself, banging my head on the desk, pacing in frustration, that didn't help. I even went as far as to eat three carrots because I felt the need to crunch something.
All that evening, I chided myself. Yep, I call myself a writer. Maybe I can't write. Even an idiot can churn out 800 words. You're such a fraud.
I'm still there this morning, but today is d-day. I've got to get this thing roughed. I'm running to town here in a bit and when I get back, I'm sitting in this chair until it's done.
YES, I am a writer. Come hell or high water.
Til Tomorrow~