I worry, and I stress, but I seem to have been dosed with a confidence/arrogance (depending on how one judges it) that keeps my hands moving despite the mallets, and trying to imagine the anxiety you describe makes me want to build us both a pillow fort and never climb out.
But I will say - as a reader, as an editor, and as a writer, that your words are important, that your stories are not the smashing weight of a hammer but the quieter cut of a scalpel, able to cut into tumor and lift it out to be seen. And those are words that we need more of, please.
no subject
I worry, and I stress, but I seem to have been dosed with a confidence/arrogance (depending on how one judges it) that keeps my hands moving despite the mallets, and trying to imagine the anxiety you describe makes me want to build us both a pillow fort and never climb out.
But I will say - as a reader, as an editor, and as a writer, that your words are important, that your stories are not the smashing weight of a hammer but the quieter cut of a scalpel, able to cut into tumor and lift it out to be seen. And those are words that we need more of, please.