I spend the first few minutes of first period each morning talking with my seniors. The subject varies daily, from the DH buying the truck with the huge NAPA hat on it to their college visits and anything and everything else under the sun.
As I dedicated Anything But Mine to them, I've been sharing with them it's daily placement on the MBAM Top 1o list (it's been there a week, I think, moving from nine to eight to seven to six, back to nine now back to seven). One of my favorite students is a voracious reader and she always has "author" questions for me whenever we're talking books or writing.
This morning, she asked if I was jealous of other writers or felt like I was inferior to them. Wow, that's a tough question and it was an eerie echo of a conversation I had with Joan last night.
Am I jealous of other writers? Honestly, no. That's like being jealous of another teacher. Oh, I envy Gabe his ability to make his classes engaging and interesting on a daily basis (he uses the neatest techniques I have ever seen). I used to envy my friend Pam's ability to be such a consistent classroom manager. I envy Lucy Monroe her ability to write gorgeous Harlequin Presents (man, I wish I could write those!). I envy Fitzgerald's ability to twist words around descriptions. But I'm not jealous. That's a destructive emotion. A pointless one.
Inferior? Oh, boy. Hell, yes. As a writer, I am inferior to Fitzgerald or King or any number of authors. Fact of life, baby, just like one tennis player can be inferior to another. So, yeah, some days I really feel that inferiority more than others.
Mine and Joan's conversation centered around that sucky, nebulous feeling of "not enough." I hate that because it's hard to pin down (like one of those EVP's on Ghost Hunters). Instead it's this hazy little thought that hangs around whispering, "This book? This idea? Not enough." Or "Not ___ enough."
Fill in the blanks with the appropriate adjective. ;-)
However, feeling the "not enough" and letting it cripple me as a writer? Two completely, totally different things.
Gee, can't wait to see what tomorrow's conversation holds . . .