Not So Much Blocked, As Scared...
All day long, my fingers have been itching. Itching to write. Itching to actually create something.
For the past few days I've dove headlong back into the world of fanfiction. Catching up on three months worth of OTL and Luba's. Revisiting old classics like well-remembered friends. Reading things I had always meant to and never had. Sweeping through my entire TP collection and hunting down more on Amazon.com.
I have always wanted to contribute, creatively, to that community. To be more than just the groupie. I have very good taste (but then, who doesn't, in their own opinion?) I know good writing when I see it. I know it and snap it up and revel in it.
And that, my friends, is why I'm writing this instead of trying to work out that incessant tingle about how Doc Brass and Jenny Sparks knew each other. Or how Peter Pan is getting along in New York City in the Fables realm. Or how Emma Bishop spends her nights.
Because I'm afraid. If I don't write anything, I can only be lazy. But if I stretch those thoughts out onto the screen....then, then I could be a fraud. Fit for nothing more than a critic's chair. Better to be lazy than terrible, eh?
For the past few days I've dove headlong back into the world of fanfiction. Catching up on three months worth of OTL and Luba's. Revisiting old classics like well-remembered friends. Reading things I had always meant to and never had. Sweeping through my entire TP collection and hunting down more on Amazon.com.
I have always wanted to contribute, creatively, to that community. To be more than just the groupie. I have very good taste (but then, who doesn't, in their own opinion?) I know good writing when I see it. I know it and snap it up and revel in it.
And that, my friends, is why I'm writing this instead of trying to work out that incessant tingle about how Doc Brass and Jenny Sparks knew each other. Or how Peter Pan is getting along in New York City in the Fables realm. Or how Emma Bishop spends her nights.
Because I'm afraid. If I don't write anything, I can only be lazy. But if I stretch those thoughts out onto the screen....then, then I could be a fraud. Fit for nothing more than a critic's chair. Better to be lazy than terrible, eh?