The very reason I write is so that I might not sleepwalk through my entire life.
Zadie Smith
I used to write a lot more and more often. It’s a muscle that has atrophied since other things in life occupied that space. Some days writing was cathartic when it served as a dumping ground for my daily rants. On other days, there is information to be documented and shared with the world. But most days, especially in my previous employment, writing was a job.
I was surrounded by writers, most of whom were very good at their craft. On a good day, I was inspired by what poured out from their minds onto paper (or a Google doc) but on bad days, I feel like an imposter; a man walking in the footsteps of giants. This, coupled with my innate desire to polish and perfect things, resulted in never feeling like anything I write is good enough to be retained or published.
This resolution was made many times before but I’m going to make it again. I will find my “why” and will make time to write regularly. I will get past the insecurity and be okay with just putting stuff out there.
Why do you write? Where do you find your drive when the going gets tough? Where do you find the joy of writing? Leave me a comment because I’m going to need all the help I can get.
keongzai 