Oh to heck with it… it’s just procrastination.
I’m lazy when it comes to working for myself. I’ve done it for years, and always (usually) managed to get everything done, but I procrastinate like there’s an eternity of tomorrows and no one counting on me.
I’m doing the same thing now. Perhaps, as I mentioned in a previous post, it is fear that is holding me back. What if my writing is not good enough? What if I can’t make it as a fiction writer?
Well, the simple answer is that I will just go back to doing what I did before. And really, it’s that simple. All my income sources are still there and still making as much money as they ever did. There is no risk.
But there is a risk to my feelings, my psyche. What will happen if I find out I can’t get one darn thing published? Not one agent interested in my novels or one magazine or anthology interested in my short stories? How will I feel then?