Drowning in Doubt
The days are beginning to flow together, I feel like I'm wasting just by sleeping. And even eating has begun to drift from my mind. I either spend my time drawing, reading and writing. But all that time has gotten me nowhere, I've written only one page. Its rather depressing to be honest.
And the crushing doubt, the constant thought that alwasy lingers, day and night, It'll never be good enough.
I wonder if it will get better, maybe it will and maybe it wont. I always consider the notion that perhaps, very likely, my writing isnt interesting or enjoyable. And that I will never complete a novel let alone get it published.
And then again, I might be too presumptuous in thinking that I will get publish. But it is the only real goal I've ever had, the only one I would willingly spend the rest of my life doing.
But time seems to be slipping away, and that if I dont begin writing now I will never finish a real novel.
Again its the doubt and desperation to prove to myself that I am not just a bland nobody who has an addiction to reading and thinks her writing is better than it really is.
The biggest problem is that I have no idea where to start, that if I dont have a good first paragraph then no one will ever like it. So I stare at that first sentence for hours, decide that its horrible and turn to a blank page. I know I shouldnt do this, but its hard.
This is what I've come up with,
***
The young warrior walked with a ball of sapphire flames floating above his upturned palm. The flickering blue light shone over the rocky path he followed and his round face was cast in thick shadows. Worn boots muffled his footsteps and the fog of his breath in the chilly air was smothered by a dark scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. Waves rolled gently at his feet, trying to catch him a he moved from one sandy rock to another.
Doubt fought with determination in the warriors mind, the doubt told him that he was being foolish and that he was following a myth that had never been proven as fact. The determination was telling him that he was doing the right thing, and that all would work out.
Determination won out, as it always did.
“Arrow, you know you’re out of your depth.” He muttered, and felt immediately foolish for talking to himself.
***
It seems hollow and boring, yet I still like it at the same time. I like that Arrow opens the story because even though I havent written the story, I still love him. If that makes sense.
Well, in other news, I got a terrible haircut, I bought Lonely Were Wolf Girl by Martin Millar and am thoroughly enjoying it.
As well as my excitment at finding out that I actually won something! I mean, I won the Bratz doll dvd when I was little, because it was a drawing one and I loved Bratz dolls. But really, Its pretty awesome.
So farwell those who actually read my boring writings :P
Emily♥