Twice today people who I haven’t seen in a while asked me about the book that I said I was going to write a year ago and haven’t. No wonder I’m feeling a little deflated now. What have I been doing? Did I get distracted? Am I someone who makes grand statements for effect and then doesn’t deliver? Here comes an old friend …. self doubt.
Now one thing I do know from this blog is that self doubt is a sure sign that I’m taking myself far too seriously. It makes me think of a mantra I have stuck to my computer screen, “It’s not about me” – a reminder that I am supposed to be the travel guide not the chauffeur. When self doubt hits it’s invariably because I think I’m supposed to have it all figured out: be all slick and knowing about life, the world and everything.
“I found my first novel difficult. I don’t want to make it sound like it’s any more difficult than driving a cab or going to any other job, but there are so many opportunities for self-doubt, that you just kind of need to soldier on.”