Apparently all great writers were consumed by their passion to write. Hmm... what does that say about me? I enjoy writing usually, but then there have been days and even weeks when I didn't really write anything - and I didn't fall down dead with the gap in my life. Does that mean that I am not 'meant' to be a writer?
The thought makes me sad but not despondent. Is this why I never finish any of the books I start? Am I mere dabbler, playing at being a writer, living with delusions of grandeur?
Note to self - I need to research all my famous authors, specially those that got published for the first time late in life. I need to see whether they were 'closet' writers writing everyday or whether their talent lay dormant underground, until one day, some day, it finally grew above ground (as hopefully some day I will).
The thought makes me sad but not despondent. Is this why I never finish any of the books I start? Am I mere dabbler, playing at being a writer, living with delusions of grandeur?
Note to self - I need to research all my famous authors, specially those that got published for the first time late in life. I need to see whether they were 'closet' writers writing everyday or whether their talent lay dormant underground, until one day, some day, it finally grew above ground (as hopefully some day I will).
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