If not me, then who?....If not now, then when?

In the beginning I had lots to say.  But a year later finds me in a funk.  I don't  have much to say.  I would rather spend my time in the middle of a story that I'm dying to tell, but scared to death to let someone see.  I have aspired to write a novel since I was in the sixth grade.  Creative writing was my absolute favorite time of the day. But in the sixth grade, you don't spend a lot of time second guessing yourself.  Today, I write a page, and then I spend three hours dissecting every single sentence.  Eventually I crumple it up, and toss it in the trash.

It's the same story.  It's been in there for a while now.  The characters are like old friends, and the place they live is like my own utopia. But I can not get the words out.  Not by laptop, and not on paper. Then I think to myself, "Well, maybe this isn't meant to be."  Then why do these people and this place continue to push themselves into my mind. I can't let them go, and I can't forget them.  

I tried to get help.  I e-mailed the first chapter to a trusted friend who encouraged me to continue with my writing.  That chapter has been deleted, and I started over 13, yes I said it, 13 times since then.  No lie, no exaggeration. It's been said that an artist must suffer for his art.  Well, when does the artist know when to continue to suffer, and when to give up?  Maybe I'm one of those crazy people on American Idol who really really thinks they can sing, except...they really really REALLY can't.  Maybe I really really want to write, but I just can't.  I don't know what's worse, wanting to write and not being able to, or trying to write and feeling like it's not good enough.

I suppose someday I'll find the words to put on paper...but then, who exactly will be there to read it? Especially since I seem to be too scared to let them see....I swear! Whatever happened to jumping in with both feet, and having no fear? Whatever happened to taking a risk?  Maybe....someday....just not today....

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.

Benjamin Franklin