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The Struggle

As you may be aware of, I am a reader. I love reading and talking about books and stories and characters as if they were real people. I could talk about books I’ve read for ages. That love extends into my writing. I love writing, it may be difficult and frustrating, but I enjoy it on a level that is difficult to describe properly.

But do you know what I hate, even loathe? Talking about my writing.

When someone asks me about my novel or about what I’m working on, I freeze, I get awkward, and all the blood in my body rushes to my face in an attempt to mercifully blow up my brain before I need to inarticulately respond. Talking about my writing makes me feel like a special sort of idiot who regularly speaks to people with their ear buds in and proceeds to shout at everyone without realizing it.

This is a problem. A problem I never fully acknowledged I had until I read a blog post from a writer friend of mine Jean Davis of Discarded Darlings (blog post here)where she writes about this issue.…

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