It’s called lack of confidence.
Fear of being slagged.
Not wanting to listen to those who don’t write but find it easy to critique what you’ve written and rewritten and lost sleep over. We budding writers always worry – what if there’s a germ of truth in their sharp words? Am I wasting my time?
Damn right it’s hard work. My sense though is that the reluctance can often be commensurate with the amount of blood and sweat that has leaked from your brain through your fingers to the page.
Every so often, I have to push back from my desk, stretch the kinks from my spine and say again and again…I. Am. A. Writer.
Easy to type, a bit more difficult to say aloud, and oh so hard to live the life.
But I have courage to fling my words out there. I do. I will.