The Artist Ego

I have a problem.

I have an EGO problem.

And it is the opposite of what most people consider an "ego problem."

I haven't got one.

Okay, I do, but she's a wee little lass, so, perhaps, she's like leprechaun sized. No, no! Fairy-sized!

She's tiny.

She is the reason I didn't get a BFA in acting.

She is the reason I cringe away from praise or criticism of any kind.

She is the reason I'm afraid of querying my book.

She is the reason.

She's a real brat.

If she could grow a foot or two, perhaps I'd have more confidence. Perhaps I'd be able to toot my own horn enough to get somewhere in this here writing world (which is a confusing, twisty-turny, uppy-downy, motion-sick-vomit-inducing machine.)

So. I'm going to work to tell my ego to step it up a bit. I need a bit of her to carry me through as I start this process.

*Except I'm desperately afraid my writing actually sucks*

Sigh.