Ray Wong, friend and author of The Pacific Between, posted this truth today. It hit home with me and my thoughts, and I wanted to share.
We Writers…
You know, we writers are such silly creatures.
We think we are so good, so intelligent, and have so much to offer the world that we write books.
When we’re done, we think we suck and nobody would ever want to buy our work.
When someone does, we think they’re crazy. How could they possibly?
And when the book comes out, we think we’re frauds. We hope the public won’t find out how horrible we are.
At the book signings, we think we’re celebrities. We think our best work is still ahead.
Then the cycle begins again.
Wash. Rinse. Rinse again.
When I’m in immersed in the writing community I feel like I’m important and talented. When I’m around non-writers I feel either a) super-intelligent-creative-and-gifted or b) totally-alone-uninteresting-and/or-misunderstood. Ray described the feeling so well.
Does anyone else ever feel this way?
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Julia Temlyn is an 
