Doesn’t time fly? A cliché but true. It is already two weeks since I last blogged. [Forgive me father. I’ll say two hail marys.]

A question for those who have published their writing out there: did you always feel you had “a story in you that had to get out”? Or was it more a hunch that you might be able to write? Something you’d like to do?

I am an aspiring/emergent writer. [Emergent - what does that mean? Do I need a chrysalis?] I used to write a lot when I was younger – maudlin, massively depressing stuff. When I sit down to write there are a lot of blank pages, unless I have an ‘exercise’. Then, it usually flows. Sometimes, especially if I am writing ignoring my internal, constant, irritating editor/censor, the stuff I write amazes me. I wouldn’t have thought that was me.

I suppose I am unsure about myself and my abilities. I get daunted. There is sooooooo much out there. Can I contribute anything of quality? Will anyone read it? I suppose I am asking: do you keep pursuing the idea in the face of uncertainty?