This is an ode to writers, an ode to myself actually but I’ll try not to be selfish and spread the ode to every writer who has been down this path you’ll be reading about soon.
You might have been through this phase as a writer or maybe not. The phase were you get excited about penning down your truth with rich ideas flowing through your mind every hour of the day. Then you sit, open up your screen, fingers pressed closely to the keys and this question comes to mind: ‘Who cares?’
You ignore it at first, then you start to craft a title for all the amazing ideas brimming in your mind but as you type in two words, you stop, it doesn’t feel right. You try again and again, shifting letters around but nothing seems to fit…and then you hear the question again: who cares?
This time you pause to listen, you really shouldn’t have but curiosity gets the best of you and you pay unnecessary attention. The question rings louder this time: Who cares about your story?
You wonder if you heard it clearly enough. What does that even mean? Why is that even a question? Subtly, subtly, the question seeps into your subconscious, your fingers shift slowly, moving farther from the keys…your excitement starts to die and soon enough, you are back to bed, doom scrolling away precious time.
Because who cares about your story.
If you have never been down this path, you are definitely a blessed one…and please teach us your ways that we may learn at your feet…but for the rest of us, who have ever felt this way, this is a note to let you know you are not alone in this feeling.
I experience this every two market days…the weird worry that nobody cares about what I have to say. I sit still in it, canceling out great stories because once again, who cares? There are a million and one writers in the world and a billion stories as well, what do I have to say that nobody has said before, what masterpiece can I craft to get the attention of people who have seen it all. How poetic or rhythmic can I possibly get to make at-least one person care?
I can imagine how many great stories I and the multitude of others who feel this way have lost because of this stupid question. Who cares? I can imagine how many great or even mediocre writers (because all writers matter) have ceased to exist because they feared that no one would ever want to read their truth, read the weird scribbles that flowed from their mind.
This is an ode to writers, an ode to myself actually but I’ll try not to be selfish and spread the ode to every writer who has been down this path you’ll be reading about soon.
You might have been through this phase as a writer or maybe not. The phase were you get excited about penning down your truth with rich ideas flowing through your mind every hour of the day. Then you sit, open up your screen, fingers pressed closely to the keys and this question comes to mind: ‘Who cares?’
You ignore it at first, then you start to craft a title for all the amazing ideas brimming in your mind but as you type in two words, you stop, it doesn’t feel right. You try again and again, shifting letters around but nothing seems to fit…and then you hear the question again: who cares?
This time you pause to listen, you really shouldn’t have but curiosity gets the best of you and you pay unnecessary attention. The question rings louder this time: Who cares about your story?
You wonder if you heard it clearly enough. What does that even mean? Why is that even a question? Subtly, subtly, the question seeps into your subconscious, your fingers shift slowly, moving farther from the keys…your excitement starts to die and soon enough, you are back to bed, doom scrolling away precious time.
Because who cares about your story.
If you have never been down this path, you are definitely a blessed one…and please teach us your ways that we may learn at your feet…but for the rest of us, who have ever felt this way, this is a note to let you know you are not alone in this feeling.
I experience this every two market days…the weird worry that nobody cares about what I have to say. I sit still in it, canceling out great stories because once again, who cares? There are a million and one writers in the world and a billion stories as well, what do I have to say that nobody has said before, what masterpiece can I craft to get the attention of people who have seen it all. How poetic or rhythmic can I possibly get to make at-least one person care?
I can imagine how many great stories I and the multitude of others who feel this way have lost because of this stupid question. Who cares? I can imagine how many great or even mediocre writers (because all writers matter) have ceased to exist because they feared that no one would ever want to read their truth, read the weird scribbles that flowed from their mind.
Truly, nobody cares…I’ll repeat that and I want you to read it slowly…nobody actually cares.
Well most people don’t…but the good news about that is, the good news I have found after much introspection and many lost masterpieces is that so should you…so write it anyway. Write your truth. Maybe one person will care, maybe a publishing house would, maybe three commenters might care, maybe a crowd will or perhaps, absolutely no one will pay it any mind but still write it anyway…let your words finds it way to the sands of time.
I always like to ask myself this question ‘what’s the worst that can happen’. I imagine the worst possible scenario and ask myself ‘so what’…and it works wonders. Try it today, hard guy your way into becoming the writer you always dreamed to be.
Until next time!
What’s the worst that can happen
By
Esther Omemu