Now is a good time to press on, although we feel weak—
Exposing fears that make us hide when we should speak.
The blank page glares back. The cursor just stares.
And Perfect is shouting, “You’d better beware.”
We write for a moment. We pause, and we sigh.
“This isn’t quite right … and I don’t know why.”
We can polish a sentence until daylight is gone,
While the story sits impatiently, begging to move on.
We “tell” too much and “show” too little about our walk.
We use narrative when our characters really should talk.
We fear their confusion, their frown, their “So what?”
Our answers are too obvious, not helping the plot.
Our weaknesses aren’t failures. They point where to grow.
They reveal where our “tells” need changing to “show.”
So write with the wobble, the tremble, the doubt.
Fear doesn’t mean “Stop!” It means “Write it out.”
