“We are all of us frauds, and we are all of us doing the best we can to hold up a tower of illusions and ill-placed hopes.”
I’m reading – and enjoying – The Broken Eye by Brent Weeks and this great line jumped out at me.
Obviously I’m not as important as the character who said it in the story, but somehow it resonated. Does that mean I’m insecure?
I think writers from all walks of life can relate to that feeling. Insecure? Perhaps. I frequently have thoughts asking if what I write is actually my imagination, or if I am subconsciously rewriting something from someone else.
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