I ask myself that every-fucking-time an idea runs through my head.
Why write this?!
Who the fuck is going to read it?!
Will this be just another message in a bottle?
- Will it reach a destination?
- And if so, will they cherish the writing?
Fuck! What’s the fear?
Not get published?!
Not being liked?!
Not reaching a Stephen King recognition?!
Fear does not drive out writing. It only prohibits us from it.
One of my fears is to leave a work unfinished…
Die halfway through? I guess.
But if I don’t start, how will I know if I’d finish it?