I'm going through that phase again. Or at least that thought process again.
Why do I keep writing? Why do I insist upon finishing this novel? It's not halfway done yet, there's so much that needs to be redone, the plot probably sounds cheesy and cliche. Will anyone even read it? Will anyone even care?
There are thousands of people out there writing novels--all with the intent of getting published. I can name a dozen offhand, a few people I'm friends with. What makes me think my novel is any better than theirs? What makes me think that--while surrounded by all these other creative writers--that I have any sort of chance to make it? It's not as though my writing is anything special compared to theirs, I'm sure.
I hate being in this mindset. This blows.
