Today I had a moment. A bad moment. A BAD MOMENT.
As I sat with my head in my hands trying to work through a difficult rewrite, a treacherous little thought entered my head. This tiny dark voice crept around my tired synapses and whispered to me that maybe I should just give up. And for one brief second, it sounded like a good idea. I had a flash of how much easier it would be if I wasn't doing this. I would sleep at night. I would stop staring at a computer screen until my eyes hurt. I would stop checking my email forty times a day. I would stop rereading the same passages over and over until the words blurred together. I would stop getting rejected. I would stop torturing myself with questions of whether I am good enough.
I won't give up. I can't give up. I know that. But this is the first time in my life as a writer that I ever thought of it, even if just for a second. It scared me.
Have you ever thought this? What did you do?