A blank slate. I have read many writers fear a blank page, writers block, and the end of ideas. Being new at the writing game [like, a brand spanking new], I find the ideas are flowing faster than I can type. My thoughts rapidly fire, waking my fingers to action as they feverishly slap the key board. I think of story upon story, and even story within story! The words flow out of me in a mostly disjointed manner, but there are stories be told. Organizing these words on the screen is confusing, and cripples my progress. I was laying in bed this morning and thinking to myself: What if my main character doesn’t realize who her antagonist is right away? What if she actually starts to fall for him and then he does something horrid, forcing her to rely on herself for saving? This starts to derail my original story and I try to wipe it from my mind. I’m always trying to think of ways to make the story more interesting, but this might be hurting the story more than helping it.

Self-doubt is a faceless beast that sends confusion ricocheting through our consciousness. We all set goals, am I right? Having goals propel us forward, but sometimes unobtainable goals or even goals we find no longer serve us, are tossed aside. The reason for abandoning a goal is heartfelt and powerful. Often leaving us in a more distracted and alienated state.

My goal is to write a book. Sure, no biggie. I’m just gonna write a book.

My response to the daily prompt: Faceless