I mentioned about a month ago that I was going to fill the void in my life left by the completion of the half marathon with a creative writing class. Tonight was the first class and as I walked home, my head practically spinning with story ideas, I had a thought that I felt compelled to share with my readers.
When I was training for the half marathon, among other runners, I was intimidated. Those early Saturday morning training runs were often humbling experiences when I would realize just how good “good” really was and how far I had to go to even begin to be mediocre. But away from the other runners, I was proud. I was training for the half marathon and just saying that out loud to people made me feel like a true athlete.
What I realized as I walked up Lincoln Avenue tonight is that I feel the same way about my writing. Despite the fact that I have experience and arguably some professional training, among other writers I feel intimidated. What’s funny is I’m never shy about telling people that I want to write and that I think I’m pretty darn good at it. But, in a workshop environment where people are invited to share their writing, I shy away from the opportunity. I hear other people’s work and I think, maybe I’m not that good. Maybe among writers, I’m just mediocre. It’s scares the hell out of me.
It occurs to me that I’ll never grow as a writer, and possibly a person, if I don’t put aside my bullshit and take some chances. Right here, right now, I’m making a promise to myself and hoping that you will hold me to it. Next week I will speak up. I will share some of my writing, whether I think it’s good bad or otherwise.