Crippling insecurity – floundering talent

I sit here on this white, deserted beach facing a sea of frothy, heaving ideas. Wave upon, crashing wave of intrigue and shiny curiosities heave anew in the distance, racing towards me, to drown me, to seep into me like an infection. A malady I want to catch.

A blue crest gleams in the distance; it is a vision of two men in an office. One clad in a stark white shirt under a coal grey suit and a stripped red tie. Thick seams of gelled black hair parted perfectly on his head. Silvery cufflinks peek from the fringes of his coat sleeves. The other skinny, beardy and in a ruffled shirt, two sizes too large – Why are they meeting? – Maybe one needs a favor from the other – Cliché!!! – How about I make the rough guy extraordinary – Like a superhero? – No…not that…no…scratch that. How about, he knows a secret about the rich man. – Jesus – Ok, maybe he is the lover of the rich man’s wife – Do Nobel laureates all have a whatsapp group somewhere, where they make fun of us peasants – This can be something – It could be a story line for a porno. Let me concentrate you fool – Lame…

Maybe it is.

How about a girl and a guy meet up. They meet at a bus stop with those clear plastic roofs and it’s raining. The guy notices the girl looking up at the roof. He looks up too. She is looking at a toothbrush lying there. The guy tries to be funny but fails cause he’s too nervous. The girl thinks it’s cute – Oh! Please feel free to add your fantasies, like everyone is just dying to know about those – No, no, they start dating and going out and then the guy disappears, without a trace. But every year the girl gets a pink toothbrush in the mail on the anniversary of that day at the bus stop for twenty years, then it stops – It’s like a lame Bollywood movie and a crime show had a baby, and then left it at the mall – But what if she goes out looking for him. It’ll be like a mystery novel – How can someone be untraceable nowadays? – Maybe she lives in the Midwest, in a little old town in the 1960’s – Just imagine your friends reading this book – Maybe she sees him one year dropping the letter. But he runs off – What was that song’s name, ra-rara-ra-ra – Let me think – Something like, since you’ve been gone my world’s been dark and grey – Let me – You suck!!!

Maybe I do.

How about a girl who runs away – Where? Don’t say the circus – No she runs away to…the moon – Elaborate? – Ok maybe not maybe her boyfriend is going to murder the father of his uncles, friends – Why murder? – Cause it sells; people publish novels on it everyday – But they are not you. They are super talented. They know it. You know the odds of getting published. Besides does any one even read books anymore? – But even novices are getting deals from the best publishers – They are talented. You are you. Only the very best survive. Two bit writers like you are born and swallowed by this sea – whole – Everyday!!!…

Maybe…maybe you are…right.


  1. Beautiful illustration of the writing process! We all face doubt and insecurities. Success in writing is less about talent and more about who wants it more. Don’t lose sight of your goals and push back against the tide! Brilliant work!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love reading when the writer draws me in and I am there thinking the lines right along with them….. you know; when it’s a pleasure to read. You have this–I hope I was able to explain what I mean correctly. I am not always successful at that. But you are talented and I like reading your posts and I love seeing M’s illustrations. Keep writing, keep illustrating and YES…. people do still read!!!!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks a lot, you dont know how much those words mean to us.
      When we started we didn’t know if anyone would even be interested it now seems we have far surpassed our own goal. Thanks a lot 🙏

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Yes! Writing that sings! Thank you for that crystal clear portal into the writing mind. I feel less crazy knowing that others have to deal with that endless self-defeating chatter! No one in their right mind would choose to be a writer if they knew what it was really like. Writers write because they have to! Or like my favorite song bird Carina Round puts it: “writers that don’t write end up talking to themselves”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ahh! Thanks for your comments u are so right. Ive been talking to myself my whole life – my wife hates it abt me 🙂 the other day i read a quote by George orwell “Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.” Thanks for stopping by 🙏

      Liked by 1 person

  4. You’ve perfectly shown how a creative mind works ~ the inner dialogue, the self-doubt, the self criticism ~ I can relate! Your writing is wonderful, keep it up and follow those ideas…who knows where they will take you 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks for stopping by Diana. U r right but sometimes it just becoems hard u know, somedays u write something and the next ur too embarrassed to even think abt what u wrote. U being able able to relate gives me hope and courage. Thanks 🙏 for ur kind words.


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