arvTales

Today held a surprise. I was given more responsibility at work. As AS was telling me what they were, I kept thinking, this is either really good or really bad. When I got back to my desk, another thought dawned: I'm not that good a writer. They expect me to edit what amounts to thousands upon thousands of words? Aiya. I'm good, but I don't know if I can do it.

I've been reading/re-reading plenty of books lately: L'Engel's A Wrinkle in Time, Heinlein's Stranger in A Strange Land, Card's Ender's Game, Lipkin's On Fire, Ehrman's Misquoting Jesus, and White & Strunk's Elements of Style. I've come to the obvious realization that they're all much better writers. Every time I put each one of those books down, I think, That's how I want to write.

Why me? I don't even know if I have the time. It's encouraging to know that Prez and AS thinks I can do it. That alone feeds me but I am still unsure of my skills.

In all my apprehension, one thought comforts me: In my life, when I really wanted to do something, it got done.