Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Am I allowed to tell you this?

Some days, I wake up and I think to myself. Wait! What am I doing!!? I CAN'T WRITE! I CAN'T WRITE! I'M THE WORST WRITER IN THE WORLD! WHAT AM I DOING!?!!! I ONLY USE TWO WORDS OVER & OVER AND THOSE WORDS ARE GORGEOUS & LOVELY! I'M HORRIBLE!!!!!

Actually, this doesn't happen in the morning when I wake up. This happens sometimes after I read something exquisitely wonderful, something I know I'm not capable of dreaming up myself. Most times, I get jealous in the good way—like: I can make something too. But some days, gosh. I read something, and I just think—well, clearly, I should just stop writing.  

After the initial self-deprecating rant in all-panicked capital letters, I settle into that place where you're just so honored to watch people just double-smash it out of the ball-park.
Gosh it's so gorgeous (and lovely).

So thank you Cat. And thank you Sarah Healy