too much and not enough

Today is a little difficult. I want my atmosphere and my ambience. I want to feel like a writer who’s gone off to work on something magnificent. Dressed well and drinking espresso. Not an average mom who’s squeezing out middle of the road words while her son gets babysat by the TV. I want to feel like the time I take away from doing other good things is worth it. That my work is good and I won’t face more rejection when it’s all said and done. I’m tired of feeling like people only like one version of me. I just want to be myself and be loved and accepted as is. Tired of marketing. Trying to figure out what other people will think is cool and smart and meaningful.

I want to tell my stories and to tell them well, but I still want to be able to recognize myself in the words I write. I’m not always sure exactly who I am, but it feels like I’m really different from all the writers whose work I love the most. So what I create will be really different than what they have created. I want that to be okay -- and to be okay with that. I’m trying to remember, today, what Johnny said to June, about letting her voice be heard.

But it doesn’t feel very true right now. And that makes doing this job extra hard, today.

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