I’m typing this with spiders jumping all around me. Okay, that doesn’t sound very joyful, and in fact, there’s more than a small amount of uncertainty that I’ll get through this post without one hopping on my face, but it’s still a post about writing joy anyway.
Why? Because I’m outside, surrounded by the sounds of crickets in the reeds, crows cawing in the pine trees, water lapping at the shore of a large lake, and yes, well, there are the spiders, who seem to think my laptop is the place to be for some reason.
I’ve been thinking about the joy of writing lately because I’m revising several things for publishing right now, getting ready for another round of editing on others, and wondering how I’m ever going to accomplish the things I need to finish what with all the spiders hopping around.
Some of those spiders are in my brain.
Am I really ready to be published?
Are my books really good enough?
Am I a good enough writer to make my books good enough?
Oh, God, what if I’m not?
You know spiders. They’ll weave a web of self-doubt that will catch you right in the face the minute you walk out the door in the morning. Every time.
But, they are just part of the joy of writing, because those spiders mean I’m right where I want to be: challenging expectations, challenging assumptions, challenging myself. I’m at the point now where I can see more clearly where I am, where I could go, and where I want to go, and the wanting is the most important part. And that’s pretty danged joyful, to know that writing for publishing is a wild place, but I’m in it.
Spiders and all.