For more thoughts on writing…
I’m terrified! I’ve come this far and now, because of the effort involved and the risks there are, I cannot move forward.
What risks? The risk of rejection, the risk of criticism, the risk of having a manuscript that I have poured my soul into, become someone else’s litter tray lining.
I have never come this far before and I feel out of my depth, drowning in the words and ideas and fears so much so, I feel like I can’t breathe.
Honestly, I’m finding myself learning new nail art techniques, or contemplating going back to teaching again, when I know, deep down I know I only want to write.
A great man once said that, ‘fear alone is death,’ Swami Vivekananda, I believe. I seem to remember seeing a poster in my grandfather’s house with a monk dressed in saffron robes, standing with his arms folded, with the words…
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