Recently, I’ve read two writers in my critique group who made me yearn to be a better writer. Perhaps that’s not a full-blown insecurity, but it certainly is a reminder that the literary road I have to travel remains long and winding.
Both stories center on tragedies (an easy target, and maybe overdone). But in both cases, the events leading to the big reveal (what weighs heavily on the characters’ hearts) are described slowly. The pain, deeply internalized, does not overwhelm, giving the reader layers of emotion and psychological depth.
The beautiful language many times comes at the reader in metaphors that stir the thoughts in many directions. I kept waiting for the writing to falter (those aren’t final works) but it never did. I was never pulled out of the settings, never unable to visualize the character’s emotions.
The writers did something wonderful not only for themselves, but for me, the reader. They inspired me. They gave me ideas. And that’s what reading is meant to do, isn’t it?
“… literature is about the obsession with ideas.”~ Ryan McGinty of the Gustavus A. College.
After a month of daily blogging, when ideas are in short supply and energy even lower, reading great literature, or just reading, does two things: replenishes the overtapped creative well, and makes me want to get better.
The latter is definitely in the realm of insecurities, and it can be treated only with reading and more reading, hopefully followed by writing and better writing.
~~~ If you’d like to share, encourage, or read other Insecure Writer’s Support Group participants, please visit this site.