At least I hope it will be. Having a proper crisis of confidence at the moment. Some people are just born with natural talent and seem to slide through life easily and happily, doing what they love and getting praised for it. Then there are the other lot, the group of people that seem to be constantly working against the tide, clawing their way to the top, only to look around breathlessly and wonder why everyone else is higher. It's a frustrating and wobbly climb, let me tell you. What I want to do is within such a competitive market, I just don't know if I truly have what it takes.
This is a very defeatist post, I know, and unusual for me, (usually optimistic to the point of lunacy), so I do apologise. I know in a couple of weeks I'll get a rave review from someone when I least expect it and be on top of the world again. But right now I barely have time to sleep let alone dream, and who are we without dreams? Cripes, got a bit deep there. Thank god for writing. One of my lecturers at university said something that really stuck with me,
"There are three types of writers in this world, one who wants to get rich, one who wants the pretentious title and the other that has no choice but to write. It isn't forced or lusted after, it flows from them and becomes an emotional tool. These are the one's that will make a living from writing."
I'm para-phrasing, but that was the general gist. I've always been the one with no choice but to write. It got me through Anorexia, depression and general terrible teenage years. And as I've grown up it's become a friend to rely on when everyone else hides behind protective shields. So in theory, one day I should be making a living from this. We'll see eh? something to hold on to anyway.
In other news, my family love me, my boyfriend is amazing, my friends rock my world and I've had a short story (pg 84-85) and a blog published at Cellardoor. So life is good, and I need to stop wallowing. NOW.