Writing is lonely.
As you’re left to yourself, there is a glitter of hope in you that something spectacular will emerge. It does sometimes. It doesn’t sometimes.
After months of creating something wonderful, there is this strong shadow which envelopes us. Doubt.
What I’ve written; is it really any good?
Feeling not very useful, sad, alone, writer’s block.
Yet why do we write?
Because it is an expression of who we are.
Because, it is writing which gives us eventually, a front seat in history.
Because it is through our words that we touch lives.
That is the secret oath of a writer. To make a difference.
To all the wonderful authors there.