I’m part of a merry band of men who go by the name of Read & Trust. Every week, one of us writes an article which goes out by email to 100s of subscribers who very kindly pay $5 for the privilege.
This week’s article was by James Shelley. I like this paragraph:
And thus we arrive at the painful, fearful place every writer must come: I could be wrong. I could be lying to you right now – lying because of my own blinding, self-delusional perspective. No matter how much research I do, no matter how well I form my opinions, no matter how many peer reviews I receive, any given sentence here could be complete and utter hogwash.
We writers are an insecure bunch at the best of times. How do you know if your idea is a good idea? What if your research is the wrong research? Is this the best piece of writing in the world of is it, in actual fact, a load of old tripe?
The thing is, most of the time you will never know. You’re not supposed to. Instead, you have to use your experience and trust your instincts. Hope for a little luck, perhaps.
I mean, who wants to be right all the time? That you could be wrong, that you might fall flat on your face, that’s half the fun of writing.