Hello, friends! Welcome to this month’s meeting of the Insecure Writer’s Support Group, a blog hop created by Alex J. Cavanaugh and co-hosted this month by Ronel, Deniz, Pat Garcia, Olga Godim, and Cathrina Constantine. Are you a writer? Do you feel insecure? Well, then this is the support group for you! Click here to learn more and to see a list of participating blogs.

For most of my life, I’ve been telling people that I love writing. But (confession time) that’s not entirely true. I don’t love writing. Most days, I don’t even like writing. Writing is a tedious, time-consuming process that requires me to think really hard about words when I’d rather be watching Netflix. I mean, have you seen Arcane? That show is so good!!! Wait, no… I need to stay on topic. What was I talking about? Oh yeah: writing sucks. I hate it. So why do I keep doing it?
Whenever I go around claiming (erroneously, as you now know) that I love to write, people will inevitably start suggesting things that I ought to write about. I’ve been told that I ought to write smut, because that’s how you make the easy money (I’ve met writers who write erotica, and I know it’s not such an easy way to make money). I’ve been told I ought to write a book about Abraham Lincoln, because it’s about time the truth came out about Lincoln (the person who suggested this… I do not know what he was talking about, and I don’t want to know). I’ve been told I ought to write about what it was like to live through a global pandemic, because that’s an interesting experience that I’ve had (and other people haven’t, I guess???).
As a writer, it takes a lot to get me to sit down and do my writing. All those suggestions from random people in my life—I’m sure somebody could write a good book about those things, but I cannot muster up enough enthusiasm to write about them myself. I’d much rather curl up in bed and rewatch Three Body Problem on my laptop. That scene in the Panama Canal gives me chills every time. So upsetting. Anyway… sorry, we were talking about writing.
For some strange reason, those same people who keep telling me what I ought to write about also keep telling me what not to write about. They don’t think I should spend so much time writing about space. They say I’ll never get rich, like E.L. James, by writing about space. And maybe that’s true. But here’s the thing: I love space. I hecking LOVE outer space. I mean, outer space is so cool! Unless you wander too close to a star, in which case outer space gets face-meltingly hot. Gravity’s weird up there. There might be aliens. All the planets (besides Earth, of course) are straight-up death traps, but we’re going to try to live on some of them anyway. Remember to bring your own oxygen, and remember to hold on to your oxygen tank like your life depends on it (because it does).
Space is just so exciting to me! It’s exciting enough that I’m willing to spend hours upon hours of my own free time writing about it. That’s time I could’ve spent watching… I don’t know, Stranger Things, or something? Doesn’t matter. The point is I love space so much that I’m willing and eager to write about it, despite the fact that I don’t actually like writing all that much.
So going forward, I may still tell people, from time to time, that I love writing. But between you and me, dear reader, you’ll know what I really mean. You’re in on my secret now. To me, writing is merely a means to an end. It’s a tool I use to express a more important thought. Namely, that I love space.
So friends, what do you love? What do you love so much that you’re willing to write about it?






