Sometimes I hate my writing. It feels repetitive and clunky and always always always like I’m using the wrong words to get my point across. I’ll get lost in trying to make a point without spoiling things or being aggressively negative, and then reread it and feel like I’m saying nothing. Sometimes I feel like I’m stalling out and the words scatter, or I get it in my head that I’m not a very interesting writer and I want to give up.

Sometimes I hate my writing, and that extends to the fictional stuff too. I’ll look at my dialogue and feel like it’s too stilted and faux formal. My action scenes fall flat. Sometimes it just feels like I’ve spent so much time with it on the back burner that it’s congealed and will never work quite right.

Sometimes I don’t hate my writing though. Those times are getting fewer and farther between lately, which sucks massively. But they still exist. Sometimes it feels like I might can make this whole thing work out and actually get somewhere with it. Sometimes I can even hold onto that when I hate my writing. I can hold it up to myself.

Sometimes I get tired of doubting myself and have to vomit words into the void. It’s a little weird like that, telling no one and everyone this one tiny huge secret so I can go back to calling myself the best thing ever.

I’m starting to sound like a pop song here. Someone set this to the four chords, let’s see what happens.