 |
| via pixabay.com |
We all get it. That slow, sinking, gut-churning doubt. We're not good enough. What we just wrote? Garbage. No one should read it. Ever.
But, what if it isn't terrible? What if it's good, really good, and we can't see it because we hold on to that cloud of self-doubt and fear of not being "good enough?"
I usually write young adult science fiction, but in November, I jumped on the NaNoWriMo bandwagon and churned out 60K words that actually, somehow, made up a story that wasn't YA or scifi. It was about Sawyer, a college-aged girl with a dark secret, and Andrew, an ex-Marine with one leg, and how they fall in love. It's so different from everything else I wrote, I thought the entire manuscript was trash. But I pushed through, revised, edited, and pitched it at Christmas time during a Twitter pitch contest.
But, what if it isn't terrible? What if it's good, really good, and we can't see it because we hold on to that cloud of self-doubt and fear of not being "good enough?"
I usually write young adult science fiction, but in November, I jumped on the NaNoWriMo bandwagon and churned out 60K words that actually, somehow, made up a story that wasn't YA or scifi. It was about Sawyer, a college-aged girl with a dark secret, and Andrew, an ex-Marine with one leg, and how they fall in love. It's so different from everything else I wrote, I thought the entire manuscript was trash. But I pushed through, revised, edited, and pitched it at Christmas time during a Twitter pitch contest.
