Self-doubt and the pursuit of writing are almost as inextricably linked as self-aggrandisement and the pursuit of writing. You can run in circles thinking about stylistic issues, questions of genre, presentation, book covers, marketing (Oh God marketing), mass appeal versus literary ‘merit’, validity of the message, financial returns and viability, time input versus result correlation, peer reviews, audience reviews, grammar, synopses (hawk/spit) and publishing. In fact we all frequently do. It’s a wonder there’s any time at all to put finger to keyboard.
But at the bottom of it all lies the one question so many of us are afraid to look at. Are you “really a writer”?
Even authors with multiple publications can worry about this. Really? Have you just got lucky, and people are being fooled? Maybe the bubble will burst any moment, and you’ll be busted. If you haven’t been published it’s even easier. Nothing to show for your efforts, no books, no-one knows. How could you be a writer?
But if you come away from the desk with fulfilment, you’re a writer. Even if that fulfilment is one of having struggled with words and for the moment lost. If you’re six years old and have written your story or poem in crayon, and you believe that piece of paper is better off with your writing on it than it was when it was blank, you’re a writer. Maybe a different kind of writer than someone who’s written 20 best sellers, but still the same species. Perhaps you choose to think of yourself in other terms first, because people are multifaceted - ‘writer’ somewhere down the line of priority. But if words give you more satisfaction than anything else, irrespective of whether anyone’s seen (or ever will see) them… then you’re a writer first, other things after.
But at the bottom of it all lies the one question so many of us are afraid to look at. Are you “really a writer”?
Even authors with multiple publications can worry about this. Really? Have you just got lucky, and people are being fooled? Maybe the bubble will burst any moment, and you’ll be busted. If you haven’t been published it’s even easier. Nothing to show for your efforts, no books, no-one knows. How could you be a writer?
But if you come away from the desk with fulfilment, you’re a writer. Even if that fulfilment is one of having struggled with words and for the moment lost. If you’re six years old and have written your story or poem in crayon, and you believe that piece of paper is better off with your writing on it than it was when it was blank, you’re a writer. Maybe a different kind of writer than someone who’s written 20 best sellers, but still the same species. Perhaps you choose to think of yourself in other terms first, because people are multifaceted - ‘writer’ somewhere down the line of priority. But if words give you more satisfaction than anything else, irrespective of whether anyone’s seen (or ever will see) them… then you’re a writer first, other things after.