I have been struggling with a short story for over a month now. It’s not playing ball. The start is wrong, the tone is off, the feeling isn’t…right. Weirdly, I’ve got the ending nailed though.
Then on Sunday, out of the blue, I had a revelation. A voice whispering in my ear…
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re no writer, you’re a fraud. No wonder you can’t break this story, you’re crap at stringing quality words together in an order that is worthy of reading.’
…or something to that effect.
And it’s true. I am a fraud. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m not good enough. I should put my pen down and…I don’t know…bake cupcakes instead. At least if I cock that up I’ve got a sugary treat (however malformed) to cheer me up.
I am surrounded by brilliant writing. Books, screenplays, poems, advertising copy that blasts its way into my world. Even social media posts and comments that sparkle with wit and insight. The talent out there is immense. Why would anyone green flag any of the poor word choices I make to be laid before others? Allow me to muddy the waters of this crystalline pool of talent?
This self-doubt came cloaking a further conundrum that soon revealed itself. What the hell was I going to do in regards to my regular Monday post on LinkedIn? What do I opine about at this week’s start, considering my lack of competence? I was close to implosion.
But then, I came up with this. This that you are reading now.
I decided to paint a picture of a chap crumbling under the weight of his own doubts and inadequacies. Fabricate a scenario that by the sixth paragraph would have readers (if there be any) formulating comments that would shower me with compliments regarding my ‘obvious literary skills’ in an effort to bolster my slipping confidence. I determined to set up my tackle and unashamedly fish for compliments. Pity praise, if you will.
Obviously, you’re not going to do that now, but admit it, you were thinking of some kind words to shore up my self-worth, weren’t you? ‘Don’t give up’, ‘Things will pan out’. That kind of generosity. But not now. Now you’re thinking, ‘This bloke is a nob,’ and you’d be right. A nob who needed to write about something and, via a punt up the river of desperation, landed on this dubious shore with the eight year old naughty schoolboy that lives in his head planting a pirate’s flag in the sand.
The truth is I have sussed out the reluctant short story I mentioned in the opening because I am a feckin’ genius. A genius adorned in a cast iron overcoat of confident arrogance that will get me through anything…usually.
And if I was to expand my enviably skillset to include baking cupcakes, they would be the best bloody cupcakes the world has ever seen.
#sifrants #sifrantsagain #writeforfun #readforfun #laughtolive #funlit #whycantimakethispay
Creating ‘time-intelligent’ teams and organisations. Adviser, speaker, award-winning author of The Future of Time, The Business of Being Brilliant podcast, now writing People Glue.
9moLove your way of putting it 'the self-centred sorry', that's such an apt description Alice Sheldon. I'm going to be watching out for that in my apologies.