I woke like a shot at 3 AM last night and, after an hour and a half of tossing and turning, had what might turn out to be a life-changing revelation.
Twelve hours earlier I’d met X, a dear friend of many years, in a café on the edge of the Village. X is a writer who’s pitched a lot and knocked some out of the park. I wanted to check with him to be sure that I have all the elements necessary to get out there and start pitching.
We laughed and talked and he pointed out some missing elements and then, midway through our coffee, X dropped his voice and leaned forward. “Anne, do you believe in the core of you that you’re good? Because if you don’t, I don’t want you to go out pitching. You’ve got to know that you’re good.” (something like that)
There were four 20-somethings sitting uncomfortably close to us, one on either side of each of us. Regardless of how absorbed they all looked in their own lives, I was not fooled. There was no way that I could come up with an answer to that question in that situation but I gave it a try and came back with a firm: “Yes. I do.” I even filled X in on some Louise Log-related justifications to back up my yes. And I was telling the truth.
But twelve hours later, in the cold darkness of my bedroom, I was not so sure. No matter how much I like my work or how many people tell me I’m ‘good’, I don’t totally believe it. And what’s more, I don’t have a clue about how to change this. (to be continued Friday)
(Trying to keep the blogs to 250 words)