So I got the chairs, and I'm using one of them as a rest for the story I've been worsteling with. It's sitting there in uncomfortable jumbles. And I know that fear and laziness are the two things stopping me from going further with it. Of course, I also wonder continually, is it really worth the effort. Do I really want to expose myself in such a way? Everything I write is based on personal experience, so I'm always giving away a little bit of myself. Maybe it isn't even interesting for other people to read about an old boyfriend. Problem is, I have a scattering of memories about him, and a lot of pontificating about the past, but none of it holds together. So I'm afraid of writing more, and creating an even bigger discombobulated mess. Maybe it's better to quickly jot down pages of garbage, and to take it from there. But I'm always stopping myself from doing so. Because I know that, once I get to that phase, there's a lot of agony involved in making it into a viable story for anyone other than myself to read.
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