I cannot do it. I simply cannot write. I proclaim the artist dormant – for no matter how I try, the vision and the act don’t meet. My words are clumsy, my plots are inexcusably confused, and my style – which comes mostly from strange and matchless description (apparently – these are not my words, I don’t feel at all that I deserve such praise) is patched and faded throughout my work.
Nothing matches, nothing flows, nothing fits, and I do great injustice to some brilliant ideas with every word I try to place.
I Give Up. Nothing anyone can say will convince me of otherwise. For now, I Am No Writer :-(
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
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1 comment:
I believe you hun, and I'm not going to try convincing you otherwise. (Hah! Surprised?) But I guarantee you in a short while you'll feel differently about it all.
Then you can come and take over some of my nagging babies ... I spent about THREE HOURS last night shading with borrowed colouring pencils when I should have been asleep, and it's still not really finished! Help!
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