Confessions of a Lost Scribe

WHAT IF I SUCK?

What if I am no good?

What if I’ve taken the last three years of my life and written a book that sucks? What if all the early hours, time spent from my family pounding away on the keyboard, hours, days, weeks, and yes, years, obsessing about this story, is for nothing? 

I don’t think I could handle that.

Seriously.

I write. That’s what I do. I don’t know how to do anything else. Really, I don’t. I tried to be a comic, but that didn’t turn out too well. I tried making a film, with not much to show for the effort. Hell, I even tried sales, with minimal success. Nothing worked. Nothing lit my fuse the way writing has.

Some people might say it’s in my blood.

So, I write.

It’s the only thing I do that lets me know I’m alive.

I get genuinely sad when a story isn’t working and get excited when I have a breakthrough. I get frustrated when I can’t figure out a chapter or when the characters refuse to cooperate. I have conversations in my head – and sometimes out loud – about how a scene should play or how a chapter should end.  To be honest, sometimes it gets pretty loud.

But you know what?

I don’t care.

 I don’t care because I love it and I can’t see myself doing anything else.

What will I do when I’m finished with this book? How will I spend my days?

That’s easy.

I’ll write another one.

And then another

And another.

I will continue on. I don’t know how not to.

Because that’s what writers do.

They write.

So what if I suck?

What if I’ve spent the last 3 years of my life writing a novel only to discover I’m no good?

Will I stop?

No.

Because whether this book succeeds or fails, whether it finds an audience or just gathers dust on a shelf, I will still wake up tomorrow and the next day wanting to write the next big adventure.

Maybe that’s the answer I’ve been searching for all along.

Not whether I am good enough.

But whether I can stop.

I can’t.