Why I'm Not a Writer

Posted on Saturday 14th October 2006 at 00:00
Do you know how I know that I am never destined to be a writer? It has just struck me as blindingly obvious, for the simple reason that I am still far more in awe of anything written by someone else, no matter how bad it is, than I am with my writing when it is on top form. It always amazes me when other writers come out with passages of thought or speech so profound that I can't even imagine being able to think such things up.

I am of course aware that for many employers of the creative segment of the brain, certain illegal narcotics have as much to do with their literary output as any element of genius inherent within them, but even while taking that into account there is no denying that most, if not all of them are better than me. I'm not the jealous type, and I have no difficulty in accepting that I am by no means the best at anything, but the gap between my ability and the ability of anyone who could ever be praised for speaking their mind is sufficiently cavernous as to deny me any opportunity to ever bridge the divide.

I've just been watching You've Got Mail, a film I love not just for its romantic attributes, but also as window into a lifestyle that I find appealing. For me there are some clear parallels between people who email each other with profound and witty observations and those who blog their personal thoughts and feelings. Imagine my dismay therefore when Tom Hanks? character manages a succession of thought provokingly insightful comments within a two minute section of film of a quality I have yet to match after three years of brain aching posts and twenty years of thinking these sorts of thoughts.

There is another possibility of course; that my continually unfulfilled, out of control desire for self deprecation is so strong that I am unable to view anything I produce in the same light as that in which I pedestal the work of those around me. Although I am in no obvious position to judge whether or not this is the case, as a theory it stands up to scrutiny and fits neatly into the wider jigsaw that depicts my unreasonably poor self image and rock bottom esteem levels.

If this be the case there are two possible future options. Either I go on being dissatisfied with my own output when bench marked against my peers while those around me try to get the message across that I need to appreciate myself and my work more, or the continual whining about the poor state of my work becomes a self fulfilling prophesy, and I end up being as dull and predictable in my writings as if I really had no talent.

You have to agree, it is a tough one.

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