So I don’t know if this just happens to be, but as I am working on my book “Pushing the Van” which is a compilation of quips, short stories, and poems that I have written in my journals…I will be typing and the content just makes me almost want to delete it all and stop working on it.  People would never converse the way that I write them conversing, my poems are so silly and sappy that I fear publishing them.

And then, of course, there is what people will read into…what character do they represent, do I really hate them? Love them?  Will my wife ask what girl or girls each sappy love poem was for?  If this work of so called literature be so bad that if I publish it will ruin anything I try to publish afterwards, will it be ridiculed before it gets a chance to see the light of day?

While typing I suddenly get really tired or spacey, like my body is trying to shut me down before I get a chance to type all this book up and send it out into the world, to try and save me the embarrassment.  Then, in a true anxiety ridden fashion, I think there is a million other things I could be doing right now that would serve me and my family better…but when I try those things…nothing gets done.

I have concluded that I need to write this book, and many more books, but this book needs to happen so that I can say that I have written a book, that I have finished something.  Learn the publishing process (via Kindle self publish) and gain some needed experience.  If the world wants to mock me, they will have to get the book and read it, and that can only bring feedback that will help me further become a better writer.

As of right now I am my own worse enemy, and the enemy that I have to defeat before I can take on the many others!

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