9 Comments

The whisperings of a book started making its way out of me about 5 or 6 years ago. It clawed its way out in what felt like a possession leaving my body at the time. It amounted to about 10k words, all of which have been abandoned to a folder on my computer ever since. The ghost of it reminds me that I am absolutely terrified of the parts of me I will find through the process of picking this back up. So many pieces of my protagonist and antagonist are pieces of me and what if I don't like her? Or, equally terrifying, what if I can't find her? The conflicting part of it all is the knowing that I am beyond the point of eager to open that folder and find out.

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Being out of sync. I’m Southern Hemisphere and fear I’ll be too slow checking messages and posting comments.

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For what it's worth, people will be from all over the world doing this, and everyone's on different schedules. Checking in once a day or so is enough.

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Not being good enough.

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There's no such thing. I'll be talking about that a lot in the class; it's a common fear.

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Running out of steam. I'm notorious for starting things with amazing and deeply sincere intentions but not seeing them through.

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Oooh, I hope you decide to do it. I've built the workshops to help writers make it as far as possible. You'd make an excellent test case to see how well it works! :)

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I fully plan to! (Don't mind my 8 wips😆)

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No fear, really. Looking forward to it. M

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