Writing a novel is harder than it seems. My great ideas don’t come out on the page like I want them to. Mostly, it’s because I second guess myself. I think back on all the great books I’ve read, on all my favorites. I’ve got Toni Morrison, Ariana Franklin, Francine Rivers, and Suzanne Collins to live up to. And when I look at what I’ve done with my novel and where I’m going with it, all I see is silly shadows and, well… crap.
I know I have to remind myself that I may be different. That maybe what I have to say through my fictional worlds and lopsided character dialogues is something new. It may not be as mystical as Toni Morrison’s work or as structured as Suzanne Collins’ masterpieces but maybe that’s okay. I don’t know when or who yet, but someday, someone’s going to read what I wrote and they’re going to discover what I found when I read my heroes’ work. Inspiration.
Can you imagine how much pressure the Biblical writers must have had on their shoulders? Writing the Word of God. I’m sure they didn’t want to mess that up. And yes, they were led by a divine inner author but I’m sure they doubted it at times, just like we all would. I’m sure there were times when they thought, “What the crap am I writing? No one’s going to read this. I’m a terrible writer.” Or maybe they never even considered that their letters and stories would turn into our Lifeline. But they wrote anyways. Thank God. And if they can write something that important, I can write a stupid bestseller. Right?