Diving can be scary. Snorkeling can be too.
Creatures lurk around each corner.
Under a rock.
Beside a coral head. Through the manatee grass.
Not unlike writing a novel.
Not unlike finishing a novel.
9:30 pm and 73 degrees.
I have heard more and more writers talk about their struggle -- trying to finish their work in progress. Message boards have many active dialogs about this difficulty.
Sometimes it's a matter of plots that peter out. Other times it is second guessing yourself. Third person? First? Omniscient?
Then it's editing. Redoing the same first chapters over and over and never getting to the end. Work shopping. Perfecting.
And then there is the panic.
What if someone writes the same novel?
What if my premise is stolen?
What if all the time I have devoted to creating my novel has been wasted?
What if I am never published?
These fears are not only limiting-- they can be paralyzing.
They can stop the creative process. Kill the energy. The passion.
The most important thing in my opinion is to keep writing.
Loving to write.
Selecting words. Manufacturing a story out of thin air.
The unbelievable rush of that first draft completed. Then the delicate process of editing.
Write. Write. Write.
Writing takes away the fear.
Like diving or snorkeling.
The more you do it the better it feels.
Just like pen to paper.
So I continue.