The reasons for this blog: 1. To provide basic author information for students, teachers, librarians, etc. (Please see sidebar) 2. I think out loud a lot as I work through writing projects, and I'm trying to dump most of those thoughts here rather than on my friends.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Today I started off feeling like an impostor, like I set myself up and present myself as a writer when I'm not, really--and someday I will be forced to take a cold hard look at myself and realize that I don't have what it takes, and that in fact this is all just a waste of time and a sad self-delusion.

However, this all has nothing to do with actually writing. It doesn't matter how I feel, only whether I try to do my work. It's like if you wake to the sound of your kid puking all over himself in the middle of the night, it doesn't matter how you feel about it. You still have to drag yourself out of bed and go take care of it.

Maybe that's the kind of thing that makes you a parent--and making yourself do the work regardless of feeling is part of what makes you a writer. Except I know there's much more to it than that, because you could write every day for a hundred years and still have nothing but cr*p to show for it.

Unrelated note--a writer friend pointed out a NYT column by Timothy Egan that had this in it:

"Most of the writers I know work every day, in obscurity and close to poverty, trying to say one thing well and true. Day in, day out, they labor to find their voice, to learn their trade, to understand nuance and pace. And then, facing a sea of rejections, they hear about something like Barbara Bush’s dog getting a book deal."

And so, to work.

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