As I write this, I’m afraid.
What if this blog sucks?
What if I’m not good enough?
Are my two teenage boys going to read it and make fun of me? (I already know the answer to this one: Yes, they are).
Writing is a hard, lonely business. You’re stuck in your own head most of the time spewing out nonsensical first drafts that you pray you can somehow mold into original and compelling second drafts.
So why do I do it? Why do I write?
Writing is a puzzle to me, and I adore puzzles. I write to discover what I believe and what is important to me. Writing is my therapy, and it keeps me whole. Writing is my elixir.
Current mood: Hopeful
What I’m listening to: "Hamilton" by Lin-Manuel Miranda