I was complaining…the other day about how hard writing can be sometimes, and my wife replied –
Isn’t that the whole point of creating art – isn’t it supposed to be a struggle, to be hard?
Well, I don’t know if my writing is art (although I would concede that it’s a creative endeavor), but it’s definitely a part of me – and whenever you mine yourself and expose what you’ve discovered to the whole wide world, that’s hard.
It’s scary.
The fear doesn’t stem from the criticism or critical reception (although that plays a part in it), but rather, facing the truth in what you’ve revealed. If you’re being authentic and honest, each book is a piece of you, a pirate’s coin picked off a beach after a storm – find enough of them and you’ve discovered hidden treasure. I’m not a single one of my characters or plots or themes, but I am all of them – they’re all, in small ways, facets of me.
They’re my interests, curiosities, fears. They’re echoes and shadows of my past, of my own life and upbringing. It’s not necessarily writing what you know, it’s writing who you are.
That’s authenticity. That’s truth.
And there’s no way it can’ t be hard.
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