I found myself confused that I was enjoying art more than writing. I shared this with my sister.
"Why do you enjoy art more?" she asked.
"Because I don't feel so much pressure," I said. "I just play and have fun."
"Then just make art." She shrugged.
Pfffffft! I was instantly offended. "No! I'm a writer not an artist."
She cocked her head. "Why?"
Her whys were getting redundant.
"Because I promised myself I would write!" And suddenly I was back in Mrs. Stevenson's classroom making a vow to be the author of a book--a well-known and completely loved book.
(**Tires screeching to a halt**)
A well-known and COMPLETELY LOVED BOOK?
It was immediately clear why I found it so hard to finish my manuscript. I was trying to please everyone with ONE BOOK!
I quickly released myself of that childhood vow and made a new promise:
I will be a writer. Known or not, loved or not, I will write.
(And paint too!)