mydwynter:

Oh, anon. I want to hug you, because I know that feel. And it sucks.

And the thing is, this is a completely normal thing to feel. Some feel it to a greater extent, and some to a lesser, but it’s normal. Those “popular” writers you feel you have to compete with feel this way. Professional writers feel this way. Writers who have books on bestseller lists feel this way. There’s always some bigger fish to look up at—or even just look at—and there’s always one more rung to strive for.

The key is, I think, to keep reaching for it. Keep moving forward.

Anyway, that’s what I tell myself when I get all up in my head, and when the great green bastard Jealousy starts making it tough for me to swallow past the thickness in my throat. I put my head down, and I take a deep breath, and I get back to work. I compete, sure, but I compete with myself. It’s the only true metric there is.

There’s no cure for writerly jealousy, but in my experience it can be eased by getting better. By looking at where you’ve come from. By taking stock. By looking at the rungs you’ve passed on the way. There’s no cure, but moving forward is an awfully nice palliative.

So please, don’t feel hopeless. It’s not hopeless, so long as you keep telling those stories only you can tell, and moving forward to tell them better and more strongly than you could have before.

You can do it. And here, I’m going to give you a hug anyway. *hug*