Sometimes, I feel like I’m writing in a vacuum. It’s as if my thoughts and ideas don’t exist anywhere but in my own mind–let alone matter to anyone else. It’s as if the writing is begging for an audience, yet there is no one to read it unless you’ve garnered an audience.
It’s as if I’m writing to myself, as if my voice is just a voice inside my head. Although I know my writing will be read by someone, it doesn’t feel that way when I’m writing. It’s as if the words will just float out there in digital space–waiting to be read.
One of the hardest things about writing is just that: writing. It can feel discouraging, like your voice won’t be heard. I write for myself, but at the same time, I want my writing to be read. But to be read is a choice for the reader. It is up to them to decide whether or not there is something worthwhile in my writing.
Is it just that my writing is worthwhile to me? That my ideas are exciting or intriguing because I think they are? All I can do is hope that my writing won’t feel like it exists in a vacuum, that I’m writing is worthwhile to other people.
Besides, writing takes loads of time and energy–especially writing that’s been edited and rewritten multiple times. The process can feel isolating, where the work only matters to you, and you only. It’s so much easier to quit–to try something else that’s easier, where you’re not wondering if you’re wasting your time.
But maybe–just maybe–someone will find your writing as important as you do. At least that is what we hope for in anything we believe is important.
Fallton Havenstonne 