I've been feeling pleased with myself lately - not because I'm less insecure, but because it doesn't bother me as much.
I often wonder whether I've lost it - the knack of writing short stories that meet the requirements of the market for which I'm writing them, that is.
(If we're talking marbles, I seem to lose a few every day. I swear I can hear them dropping out of my ears every time I shake my head. Or perhaps it's just the rattle of my ever-shrinking brain.)
I'm still writing, but I don't seem to be hitting the mark. A few months ago, this would have made me feel like giving it all up, but now it's just making me wonder whether I'm writing the stuff that's right for me.
I love writing short stories because those fabulous words - THE END - come around so much sooner.
I have a short attention span (yes, I admit it, I get bored easily) and have never seen a novel to fruition, but I'm thinking the time to have another stab at novel-writing may be nigh.
I have dark thoughts and plot-lines that will have no place, believe me, in a short story for the WOMAG market.
What I need to do is to believe in myself and my story enough to see it through.
Watch this space!
Thanks for stopping by - hope you aren't feeling too insecure today!