4: Self-Doubt in Alodia
9/20/2011
4 ½ hours of writing tonight and all I got was 2 pages done. That’s pathetic. Got Tapu down the cliff steps and to the shores of the Waters of Life, and that’s it – 4 ½ hours. A lot of rewriting, and the result is good for a first draft, but at this rate I won’t make my 14-year deadline. I was hoping to get through Ombure tonight, but…
Oh well, any progress beats no progress. I’ve let way too many days go by with no writing at all, so I’ll take my 2 pages and try to be content. I just wish I was a better writer. I know writing fiction isn’t easy (when done well), but it shouldn’t go this slow, should it? Ideas are easy for me, finding the right words and phrasing them is hard. Journal writing and letter writing is easy, it’s all exposition. Story telling is a whole other animal. I haven’t the skill or talent. But I’ll get it done on way or another, so long as I keep chipping away at it. Got to be more consistent, with a minimum of 4 hours a day. Every day.
Yeah, right.
Present-Day Reflection
5/29/2026
I don’t think anybody has an innate skill or talent for writing. It’s hard to imagine evolution selecting for such a trait. More likely, any semblance of talent for writing fiction is a consequence of selecting for another more immediate trait, like self-confidence or the ability to articulate verbal communication.
At any rate, I have never had any use for the notion of talent. To whatever degree it may or may not exist, it will always be hard work and persistence that wins the race. And writing is a marathon, not a sprint. Talent only gives someone an edge at the beginning stages, where they get a desired result a little faster than others. This advantage gets washed away though rather quickly when you’re talking about things that take years to develop. Like anything of any real value.
