Writing is so overwhelming. I've started multiple projects in the last eight weeks, and I'm not close to finishing a single one.
What it comes down to is the pressure of getting it right the first time…the anxiety from making your story fit all the formulas, remain engaging and cohesive, have the correct number of syllables is enough to make you cry and want to give up.

Crying and giving up is something I can be really good at.

And yet I want to be a writer…it's like an invisible rule that in order to write you have to be able to feel all emotions, interpret them on the most base level, portray them in the most complex, and on the outside remain tough as nails.
Do you think Ernest Hemingway ever cried over a rejection letter? No…in fact, he was probably never rejected due to the combination of raw, powerful talent, and the fear he struck into the hearts of editors when they became aware of his prowess with an elephant bazooka.

The other thing I need to remind myself is nothing is ever right the first time…and if you think it is, you thought wrong. I've been horseback riding competitively since I was 6…I ought to know that your first trip into the ring might have felt perfect, but you could still clean up a few little nit-picky things or use more pace. Those corrections never bothered me: I'd go back in for round two and make them. No tears, no fuss, no worry about perfection or a Golden Globe. Why is writing so hard?

Why is something that essentially has no right or wrong answers so difficult? The mental wall that takes six years and expert repellers to scale.

I'd love to give myself the luxury of saying something like "the life of an artist is not one to be envied," or "ah, the tortured soul of the dramatist," but who am I kidding? I'm a kid with a laptop and a stack of notecards. Quit crying and get to work already.