Art by Julia Randall
Why don't you trust our taste? Why do you keep seeking opinions of others in fear you're somehow wrong? "If everyone loves that book, why don't I like it? I should like it. Surely I missed something. There must be something there that ought to get me thrilled." But there isn't a thing and you push yourself to turn pages but you know you're not in it.
SET THE DAMN BOOK ASIDE.
I don't know how long it will take me to learn this lesson.
TRUST YOUR TASTE, KSENIA.
But no, I still doubt. My taste is what got me into this game, the game of writing, and yet I'm not used to trusting myself, I'm used to doubting myself since most of the things I remembered being done to me when I was a kid I had to discount to bad memory (as adults advised me), to making things up, to the curves of my brain not meeting quite right, and here I am years later battling this nasty habit of self-doubt.
The truth is, my taste is great. The truth is, my instincts are excellent. The truth is, this is what has me dissatisfied with my own writing. I know where I need to be. I know where I am now. I compare the two. I count how many years I've been writing, I see how far I've come, and I see how little this "far" really is, and I get disgusted and impatient and sullen.