So so so often I work on a story, rewrite several times, put it aside and come back to it to rewrite again, finally feel like it’s finished and share it, only to have panic and suddenly realize how much I got wrong.

Such feelings are common for many of the writers I know. Perhaps the intensity of the feeling varies and the timing of when it hits, but the doubt and panic still comes screaming in.

Sometimes if I know someone has read something I’ve written, I don’t want to face them ever again. I have to push the knowledge that they’d read my work aside, and if they should mention the story to me, I change the subject.

I’ve hit that point on the novel I’ve been serializing on Patreon. Goodness, I should have done things completely differently!

I’m giving up trying to change this feeling. Instead, I focus on plowing through it. It’s why I serialize stories in the first place. It forces me to, as they say, feel the fear and do it anyway.

This reminds me of Binkley and his monster in the closet in the world of Bloom County.

The monster isn’t going away, but perhaps can be managed.

Thanks for reading! Truly.