I don't think I have an inner critic. You know - the little voice inside that tells a person they're an utter failure and nothing they do is ever good enough, and other general non-helpful things like that.
Nope - mine does not exist on the inside. Mine's on the outside. While others leap towards life with fervor and cannonball into the waters of possibility - I cling to the ladder and hope I can hang on through the waves of others. My inner critic is on the outside and any time a small bit of inner me, the inner holly, tries to poke through with an encouraging word or a "you can do it!" cheer, outer Holly squishes her like a bug and then eats her.
So why the tirade? Why the sudden burst of self-realization? I have a half-written book. It's been half-edited by two very smart and very different gals (Thank you Alison and Summer!) and, I'm told, it's very good. Funny. Hilarious, even. Yet I can't finish it. I can't bring myself to write on it anymore. I feel like, even though I've written 140 pages of comic fluff - I can't do anymore. I'm spent.
And then my evil critic rears her ugly head. Constantly flapping her tongue and beating me about the head with her stunning observations of "Well, you wrote a book, huh? Watch out Dan Brown! Heh! Giving Jennifer Weiner a run for her money for sure! What's it about? An accidental hero named 'Bunny'? Yeah - THAT'LL work!" And I can't argue with her. Holly's always right. She always wins. So I put away my notebooks. I pack away my rough drafts. I shred my notes and wipe the blackboard clean.
And I sit.
Someday, a little part of me thinks, "holly will win." My inner voice will have her day in the sun, so, until then, I will try to forget about the character sheets nestled in my desk drawer. And I will turn a blind eye to the notes about plot development after the attack of the Dynamic Duo and the explosion at Riverfront Park.
One day, she will win - and I want to be ready...
(Oh - and just so I don't get in to trouble again - much thanks to the Dials for having me and my water-logged hubby over for a cookout. I'm sorry I ate all your Deviled Eggs, which is a big fat freakin' lie cuz they were Grrrrrrreat! :) )