(First of all, please note that it is late at night that I am writing this, so forgive me if I might sound a tiny bit random.)
Image recovered from this link.
Oh, how exciting the realm of writing is! Many writers have been in love with words since they first knew what they were, and oftentimes in a writer's life, there is a moment of discovery. Maybe they read a book, or communicate with an author, or enter the world of blogging. Maybe they've done all of these things! But, whatever the case, they have left several of their old tales behind, and are now looking towards new ones, with the seemingly ever-distant goal of publishing.
Uhg. Publishing. What a haunting word it can be.
To a writer, the word "publishing" can mean many things. It can mean fun and excitement. Editing and revising, and deleting and more editing. A journey of several years that, in the end, will be totally worth it.
Sometimes, however, the concept of publishing can snake its way into our personal realm of writing, and linger there, producing a cloud of smoke that is hanging dangerously over our heads. The pressure builds, and we soon begin to realize that, someday, our stories just might be told, and read by other living beings. And suddenly, we're terrified.
I'm not saying that the extended world of writing, including the idea of publishing, is a bad thing. In fact, I think it's very good. But sometimes we writers need to step back, forget about publishing, and remember that, for now, it's just us, our closed door, and our story.