Why we don't

Why don't I write a book? I'm not really sure. I think because I think there are so many other people with much more training in writing, experience in writing, raw talent, and discipline than me out there. People who actually have something to say. A platform, an interesting story, an imaginary world that begs to be discovered.

Dan writes in his journal every single night. And blogs almost daily. When he blogs it comes out seemingly effortless. Effusive--as if it just bubbled out and landed on the keyboard packaged and ready to go. Beautifully.

I'm so busy voraciously reading, selfishly gobbling up other people's words that I don't want to use my reading time or energy to sweat out a draft. I'm choosing to call it "research" for now.

Plus I'm not sure what I'd write about. There's no way I could do fiction. I'm creativly impaired. I would probably decide that my main character would be a female then be stuck for months on giving her a name. So then I'd change my main character to being a male and the same dilemma would happen. Or I'd sit and wonder if I could write from a male's perspective not being one myself.

Once I decided and started to write the first line, I'd get totally distracted thinking about a title. And what I'd want the cover to look like. Do I want a photograph? Illustration or painting? What colors would I want. And most importantly, which font would I choose? Where would I pose for my author head-shot for the back flap? What would I wear and how would I do my hair? Would I smile or try to look artistic and focused?

See, there's just no chance of me getting anything written on this poor book.