Chuck Wendig wrote a hilarious and poignant post on the self-doubt we face when creating something as daunting as a book:
And writing a book is a long process. Far more marathon than sprint. It’s easy to run a sprint. Hard-charge over a short distance? Sure. Can do! But a marathon, man — hell, the most I’ve ever run is two miles and to be honest with you, I often hit trouble at around the same times as I do with a novel (third, half, two-thirds). Writing a novel is tantamount to wandering a dark forest. You’ll always have those times when it feels like you can’t see the stars, that the thicket has grown too deep, that the way out will never be within sight. But then you keep wandering and — okay, sure, sometimes you get eaten by a GOBLIN BEAR because they can smell your fear-pee — eventually you push through the shadow and the bramble and there’s the way forward again.
It’s like he’s in my head. My drafting process is usually a progressive series of emotions: