"In my own case, I certainly don't walk into my room and sit down at my desk feeling like a boxer ready to go ten rounds with Joe Louis. I tiptoe in. I procrastinate. I delay. I come in sideways, kind of sliding through the door. I don't burst into the saloon with my six-shooter ready. If I did, I'd probably shoot myself in the foot."
This quote from Paul Auster, which I found on The Believer Interviews, gave me not only one of those laughs of recognition, it also provided me with some comfort. If Auster can produce all those masterful novels while experiencing all those familiar doubts and hesitations, maybe there's hope for some of us 90 pound weaklings.
As for me, I'd love to step into the ring for another round with one of my unfinished writing projects. But right now I have to don my waitress disguise and head out to do another wedding. Not that I'm complaining. There's something very salutary about physical work, I love my co-workers, and at least once during any given shift, I hear a song that absolutely demands I stop everything and dance (discreetly, of course). But the best part is that every wedding is both the culmination and the beginning of a great drama. With any luck, I might even come home with a story.