Potential

I’m sitting in the library, trying to write and I can’t help thinking that libraries are probably the worst place to try to finish a book. I mean, sure, they have a quiet atmosphere (most of the time), a controlled pleasant temperature, and even their seating arrangements are tolerable (at worst) though usually comfortable. But, looking around right now, I can’t help but wonder...

WHAT AM I THINKING?? WHY DO I THINK I CAN ACTUALLY WRITE A BOOK??? 

Look at all of these books. So many people have succeeded at what I’m trying to do and they all are a billion times better than me! O.K., maybe not ALL of them are a billion times better than me but probably ninety-percent of them are! Sigh. Why do I do this to myself? I get all ambitious and think that I can accomplish something this big (not to mention, I’m doing it during my non-existent spare time). But not only do I want to just finish this book, I’ve had actual dreams that it could be published one day. 

WHO DO I THINK I AM??

But then I get a hold of myself, kick away those negative thoughts, try to pick a more uplifting song on Spotify (John Williams - Harry’s Wonderful World from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone will do nicely, thank you) and remind myself that all of the thousands of books lying in rows and rows of shelves in front of me started with a blank page, just like mine did. Not only that, but all of the authors had to write that final word that goes right before “The End,”  just like I’m trying to do. So, this Charles Todd (the author whose twenty-plus books are taunting me on the bookshelf I’m currently facing), started where I did. Or even Tolstoy (yes, I’m sitting in the T section). Leo had to look at a blank piece of paper before he could write even one word. 

Maybe I can do it. No, I’m definitely not Tolstoy—nor even this Charles Todd author (whom I know nothing about so please don’t Google him and/or assume I know what he writes). Have you ever thought, "I'm not fulfilling my potential." or "I know I have potential, but..." Sigh. I have. And maybe I’ll never end up with a published book, but it doesn’t hurt to try. It doesn’t hurt to have ambitions. Not only does it “not hurt to try,” but I’m growing so much as a person and a writer as I work on my novel. (Yes, even at my age.) Trying means that I’m increasing my ability and capacity to relate. To love. To hate. To empathize. To endure. To succeed. To have potential for great things. And I'm good with that.