If I were a confident writer I’d be posting my stuff left right and centre. I’d see my work as a veritable treasure trove waiting to be emptied into your inboxes and RSS feeds.But I’m not.I have written work – lots of it. All of it personal and none of it currently available for sharing because I don’t feel it’s good enough yet.Before anything is posted I write to empty my head of the thought. Then leave it to ripen (or fester). I’ll take another look – hours or days later – and either tinker with it or delete it (this is the fester part – if it sounds like diatribe written in haste or in a mood… middle of the night…?) This goes on until I feel it’s good enough to share.I don’t take my readership for granted and I’d hate to publish a load of crap because you’d never come back. If I was writing crap I’d expect you to leave/not sign up. (Oh god. Maybe it’s happening now. Don’t leave me!!!). I am aware that I don’t sound confident and I know this feeling won’t last. No one wants to read about someone sounding miserable all the time – I’m not a miserable person just very insecure.As a designer I was successful, now I’m at the bottom of my new career path working my way up again and it’s one hell of a ladder. Like Joseph d’Lacey’s bird analogy, my insecurities come from the crazy competition out there. The ‘published author club’ is pretty exclusive and I need to write more than I pray.
I am dipping a toe into the public world – we’ll see where it leads me.