THE THING

Now and then there’s that thing that chooses to not tell you straight up not to write.

It does instead ask you what makes you think you’re qualified to write.

It asks you why you think what you’ve written will be good enough to make the reader not feel like they’ve wasted a few precious minutes reading your dour sentences.

There’s something fastidious about this thing as it takes away your power to oppose it in an ever politically correct manner: it stops just short of screaming at you: quit it, loser, you’re no good at this! It’s as if it’s wary of crossing a certain boundary beyond which its actions would be perceived as unlawful.

Its mission is obvious – to stop you from writing – but to achieve that, it administers a thousand cuts instead of a single executioner’s blow.

Wouldn’t it be easier and less agonizing on you if that thing just plainly tells you not to write because you’re not good enough rather than ask a range of poisoning questions?

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