I don’t have the patience. I used to once upon a time. But now I can’t seem to write a novel from start to finish.
It’s OK. Maybe I’m not meant to be a novelist. I’m still a writer. For now, I’ll stick to shorter stories and projects.
I’d still like to push and challenge myself. I want to create, so I will.
I’m currently working on a bunch of different things. Hopefully, one pans out.
When I look back at old manuscripts, I realize I’ve come along way. But there’s still a lot further for me to go.
Writing a novel is hard. I have so much respect for those who do.
When I first started, I had no idea what I was getting into. But I’m glad I picked up a pen and filled page after page.
Time would fall away. I could’ve stayed in that moment forever. I didn’t care about money or fame. The voices in my head didn’t stop me from writing. Neither did all the voices of society.
Remember what it was like to write when you were a kid. Think about all the fun you had.
Doubt is crippling. It can stop you from chasing and living your dreams. Don’t let it. You’re better than you think.
What are you scared of? What do you have to lose? Think of everything you stand to gain.