I've been on a roll lately reading Tess Gerritsen's blog, even going back through all of the archived posts. I can't even remember how I first stumbled across it; I'm not sure I would have specifically gone looking fot it since I've never read any of her books. (Which will change once I get the free time to do so.) However, her blog is written in such a fresh, welcoming, and sometimes brutally honest way that it's become one of my favorite reads.

Especially when I'm going through a phase of hating my writing like I'm going through now. I'm in rewrites of my novel right now, and I haven't touched it or looked at it for over a week. This is because about a week ago I reached a point where I was certain that every single word of it stunk. That it was shallow and predictable and dorky and uninteresting. That it was unspeakably obvious that I am a talentless nobody who is suffering delusions of the grandest order that I might actually sell this thing, and even more delusions that a few thousand people might want to pay for it and read it.

But reading Ms. Gerritsen's blog has felt like a breath of fresh air and a slap in the face all at once. She writes honestly and frankly about her qualms and fears and insecurities, as well as about professionalism, hard work, and persistence. This woman is a New York Times Bestselling author, and she admits freely that she too reaches points in her writing where she hates what she has written, where she isn't sure that she can salvage it and make it work.

And it was such a relief for me to hear that. Maybe I think my book stinks because it really does stink. Or, maybe I think my book stinks because I've been putting close to four hours a day of work into it for several months now and I'm just burned out on it.

Either one is equally possible, but it's comforting, for me, to know that at least there's an option besides, "I suck."