I sit in my room late at night, and peruse the Writers Cafe writers. I read their stories, review them, give them honest ratings. But then I think, "Can I compete with these people? Did I bring my A game, or am I just making an a*s out of myself?" This thought usually only hits me after reading a particularly good piece, something that stays with me and makes me think some more. "Why didn't I think of that?", by far the most frequent question zipping through my brain. I panic as I look at my inbox, no reviews, where's the love folks? I debate whether or not I really want to do this; maybe it's not for me, maybe I saw the shining one too many times as a child. I get off the computer for a bit, throw on some netflix and watch some indie movies, and finally make my way back to the computer.
I log in slowly, bracing myself for the lack of opinion from others, only to find that I've been reviewed! My heart hasn't raced like this since I'd lost my virginity. Well maybe that's too much, but it makes the point. I click on the review and read slowly, holding my breath as I do. Turns out it's kind of hard to read with your breath held. As I finish reading, a small surge of relief hits me; maybe I can be a writer, maybe I shouldn't be jealous of those who right great stories, maybe I should learn from them. Taking things in stride would help too; success doesn't fall in your lap overnight. I go back and read some of the great stories I had read earlier; and the jealousy is gone, live and learn.