I spend a lot of time looking in the mirror trying to figure out what’s wrong. It’s funny, I never look in the mirror trying to figure out what’s right. When it’s right I don’t dwell on it, but when it’s not I spend a lot of time agonizing over it. I spend too much time in therapy but still not enough. I’m a married man now. That’s not the problem, that’s the part that’s right, at the beginning I spent a lot of time agonizing over that but now it all just flows smoothly.
But I can’t write, I mean obviously I can write bullshit stuff like this but man, something good…When I so much as think about writing all I see in my head are the faces of the people who are attacking my unwritten work. It’s exhausting. The mere thought of writing something immediately triggers the faces looking and laughing at me. Mocking me. Mocking me.
But the thought of not writing, of living my life like another schmuck, going to work every day, never having written a book (even if it flops) kills me a little.
So I bounce from the nightmare of everyone mocking me to the nightmare of living my life as something other than a writer.
So I have to learn to get past this. But at the moment all I do is look in the mirror and then look away.