Doubt

2008 was Year of the Workshop. Which is to say, it’s the year I finally began structuring my writing time, and it’s the year I declared I’d be published.

As it happens, I was. Just a little. 2009 has been the year to build on that. So far so good. I’m thinking about 2010 already, contemplating goals, and so on.

Even so, every story comes with a heaping helping of doubt. This morning I went crashing into it headfirst with a story I’ve been working on for a couple of weeks. I’m angry at the story and I’m angry at myself for being angry at it. I’ve shown the first few hundred words to a friend, who sent it back “intrigued.”

“Intrigued” is a good word, right? I should be happy and hopeful, right?

But I’m not. I’m stuck in that loop of doubt that says that I won’t be able to deliver on the promise of the premise. My inner critic can’t stop going on about how my transitions are rubbish, my action is bland, and my dialogue is stunted and cardboard. And while I know that every writer goes through this (many of us on a regular basis), I just want to bang my head against a desk until I knock myself out and wake up to find everything has been fixed by the Manuscript Fairy.

Oh, now there’s a Halloween costume…