Hey, Writer.
Here’s the thing: I get it. I get what it’s like to feel like you’re not good enough.
I know what it’s like to watch other writers and see their pages and their websites and their signings and think that you’ll never be like that.
I know what it’s like to stare blankly at your computer screen for 3 hours hoping—begging—for anything at all to come and then have nothing at the end.
I know what it’s like to hate yourself as you finally close the doc and walk away. And I know what it’s like to not want to try again tomorrow.
I get it. I do. And I see you, Writer. I see the way you hate marketing. How every piece of unsolicited advice makes you want to scream and cry because of how frustrating and overwhelming it all is. How it crushes your soul every time you have to plead and beg and bargain for someone to at least TRY and give you a shot. Read one book. One chapter. One page. Anything. PLEASE.
And then, finally, after all of that, you think that maybe you’ve reached someone. That maybe one person will think you’re worthy and that the word will finally spread. But then you beg and plead and bargain for a review. For a share. For a like. Anything. And how each tiny bit of feedback is its own thrilling victory. But it always feels short-lived. Because there’s always someone who has more.
I see you, Writer. I see you sitting down at the computer again. I see you type out a word. A sentence. A whole paragraph sometimes. I see you read and reread it and feel like it’s not good enough. Like it won’t ever sell or be loved or be worthy. I see you delete it. And I know what it’s like.
But here’s what I wish I could see, Dear Writer. I wish I could see you write like you did the first time. When the world was new and beautiful and all you wanted to do was add to it. I want to see your eyes light up when you feel that thrill of love and life and creation.
I want to see the smile on your face when you FINALLY think of the word that fits your sentence perfectly and that has eluded you for six minutes. I want to share in your excitement when you finish a chapter or even a sentence. And I want you to feel like that’s still something worthy, no matter how short or long because it was more than you had yesterday.
Listen, Writer. I get it. I do. Marketing sucks. Begging people to care even a LITTLE bit about this piece of your soul you’ve slaved over and offered on hands and knees only to hear crickets in response sucks. Every step in the process is harder than the last, and it never ends. And it’s so easy to not even begin. Because your brain asks you: why try? It’s not like you’ll ever be like those other people on your feed.
But I see you, Writer. There was a time when you loved creating worlds for the sake of creating them. There was a time when you wrote because you wanted to write, and not because of all the things that have since bogged you down. It was wonderful. It gave you joy. And I want you to find that again.
I see you, Writer. I know that there is greatness in you. I’m sorry that the world has darkened it in more recent times. But you can brighten it again. I believe in you.
--Anonymous