This week I am at a writer’s conference in Denver. I will be listening to presentations from publishers, agents, editors and successful writers. I have always wanted to be a writer. It’s one of those dreams that you hold deep within your soul and guard like a diamond, that once shaped and polished, will be of untold worth.
But coming to place like this is scary for me. It’s a reach, and way outside my comfort zone. I love writing. I think I can write…but what if one of these guys tells me I can’t write? What then?
Have you ever had a dream so precious to you that you would rather keep the dream than make an attempt that fails and lose the dream? That’s where I am. A part of me loves the dream more than the attempt to make the dream happen. The result is getting caught in the proverbial catch 22. You want to, but don’t want to; you don’t want to, but you have to.
Well, I’m here. I guess that’s the first step. And I guess I must be a writer. I mean, who else comes to writer’s conferences?
So, I guess I had better start writing. There is nothing more useless than a writer who’s not writing.
What do you dream about doing? What’s stopping you?