I have been doing a bit of reading lately, more than usual I fact. There’s a reason I don’t read much at times. We’ll, more than one reason I guess. For one, I’m afraid I’ll be influenced too much by another author’s style and begin to sound more like that author than myself. Another reason is that the more I read, I soon come to realize how inadequatly skilled I am. I’ve never thought myself great but I usually trudge on, hacking my way through what slowly becomes something at least a few folks will enjoy reading.
Surprisingly, this is very satisfying to me, though I would love support myself soley from putting my thoughts and amagination on display.
Did John Steinbeck think himself a talentless hack? Has Dean Koontz ever lost nights of sleep worrying his newly completed novel was trash? I have met writers who seem to be utterly convinced of their own superiority. Do they really believe that?
Well, enough random thoughts and rambling of insecurities for now…and my apologies to all the other authors I didn’t mention.