I’m in the first weeks of a new novel. Actually it’s Book 3 of my Monolith series.
I don’t believe anyone ever suspects how completely unsure I am of my work and myself and what tortures of self-doubting the doubt of others has always given me – Tennessee Williams
While many of the characters are familiar old friends and the world is a place I know well, I’ve transitioned from ‘close to final’ edits (fingers crossed) of Book 1 to a brand new blank page.
My brain is comparing my poorly structured Book 3 vomit draft with my almost complete Book 1.
Next to Book 1 with its 18 months of hard graft and polish, Book 3 feels like a steamy pile of poo. I am the super hack.
I do have high standards. I look at everything I have done and think, ‘Why wasn’t that better?’ Part of my motivation is from crippling self-doubt – I have got to prove myself wrong – Michael Palin
But misery loves company.
Rather than cheer myself up with positive quotes and affirmations, I’ve collated a bunch of other doubters. Doubters who are much more successful than me.
What still concerns me the most is: am I on the right track, am I making progress, am I making mistakes in art? – Paul Gauguin
Self-doubt is part of the process.
No fine work can be done without concentration and self-sacrifice and toil and doubt. – Max Beerbohm
So I’ll acknowledge it and…
On commas: When in doubt, pull them out.
You’re very much where I am. I’m just starting to enjoy myself as I write my first draft.
This is great! Steaming pile of poop is often how I describe my current (first) draft. It’s so painful sometimes!