When I was in school my teachers told me I had a talent for writing but I cringe when I look back at what I wrote then. And whatever ability I had back then seems to have been knocked out of me by years of study.
But the thought that maybe I could write something someday has always been there in the back of my mind. I remember I met a lovely man, a playwright, who told me not to worry about writing anything good or worthy. If you want to write, he told me, just write. Every day. Write, write, and keep writing. And eventually you might produce something you’re happy with.
I don’t know. I realise now that I address the issue head on that I’m afraid that if I try, I’ll see that I don’t have that ability after all, that those who thought I could were wrong. And another bit of self-confidence gets chipped away. But I think it’s better to know who I really am, what I can really do and whatever confidence I feel be based on reality. Yes, that sort of confidence would me much less likely to crack and chip.
I’m not even sure where to start. But at least I’ve acknowledged that this is something I want to try.