Ah, the crows of doubt. For the uninitiated, these are the dark creatures that circle your head, pecking at your hair whilst cackling evilly and shouting ‘you are SO RUBBISH.’ Recognise them now? I thought you might. There is a particular gang of crows which specialises in attacking writers. They have additional phrases, like ‘even if you sell this drivel, it’s so bad that no-one will ever read it,’ and ‘well that book might have sold, but this one is just WTF. Ryan Gosling will beg to be your love slave before this gets published.’
Before I was published, I assumed that publication would smite down the mighty crows of doubt, bringing them to earth in an explosion of flames that would turn them to dust, never to be heard from again.
This is not the case. Sorry about that, unpublished writers.
The crows are bigger. They have new, previously unheard phrases. It’s a crow of doubt upgrade. Woohoo! Suddenly, the room for mistakes seems much, much smaller. Ideas you would have gone with before even though they were rubbish are now dismissed, because they’re rubbish. And there’s no room for rubbish any more. You’re supposed to know what you’re doing!
And… collapse on the floor in a heap of despair, vowing never to write again. Instead, you will live in a clean, organised house, and never again put the bin out at the last minute wearing a dress but no knickers because you got dressed in such a hurry (or is that just me).
At the moment, I am trying to write a different kind of book, a bigger book, something with more twists and turns, more characters, more challenges. I’m not sure I can do it. The crows are having a field day. But I am beating them off the only way I know how – one word at a time.
How do you fight off the crows?