I have been hiding from my writing for a while now.
Why? Well, writing is a weird thing. Writing novels, I mean, since they are the things I tend to write. Even after you've written one (or two, or more...) you still come back to the blank page asking yourself, "Can I even do this?" You just did! Don't you remember? But the thing is, you don't. It's so strange. There's all this self doubt, and fear of failure, and flailing around even though you know that the only true failure is a failure to get words down. It's a failure to do the work. The truth is, you can make all the mistakes in the world because so long as you have words written, those words are fixable. In fact, you need to make mistakes. You need to go down wrong paths. Because it's on those wrong paths that you tend to find the right ones.
Somewhere deep inside, I know this. And yet I'm still afraid of the blank page, of that blinking curser or the moment my pen stalls. I'm afraid of the unwritten words. And while it's okay to be afraid (sometimes), it's not okay to let fear keep you from doing what you need to do.
I was hiding from my writing this morning when I read this:
one is committed, there is hesitancy, the
chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative
and creation, there is one elementary truth that ignorance of which kills
countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits
oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that
would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the
decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and
meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have
come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has
genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now. - Johann von Goethe
I don't want to hide anymore.