This warning label (see picture) on my kick-errific new Converse is pretty much my daily nightmare. I'm standing in the middle of a room with hundreds of expectant eyes staring at me with a blaring white sign draped around my neck: Due to the Unique Characteristics of Material, Some Loss of Glitter May Occur During Wear. You will loose your ability to write quip-y dialogue and glitter no longer! Nooooo! I need all my glitter to concoct YA fabulousness! Ahhh!!!!
Just let me dry the cold sweat from my brow. Okay, I'm back. I was so happy when I got this glittery purple pair of shoes from my lovely mom (who still takes me on sporadic shopping trips ☺), but now I feel like they're glaring at me from my closet, implanting irrational tones of self-doubt in my head as I write.
*I have since instated a closet shut rule in the Writertorium.
I know I'm not the only person who suffers from self-doubt, but mine seems to come at the most unexpected times. Like when everything is (seemingly) going to plan, which makes the self-doubt also irrational and baffling. Does anyone else feel unjustly confident up until the moment when justification finally comes along? Sorry that was a bit Seussical; it must be all the glitter tongue tying me up. Simple version: When does self-doubt wear off your glitter and how do you deal?
B*
