MORE SELF-INVOLVED WHINING ABOUT WRITING: Writing is hard, right? Sure. And it's not just literary fiction and confessional poetry and the like that are so darn tough. Even the corporate stuff I do can be a struggle. Why? It's the nakedness of it. There's something about writing, even dumb writing, that borders on shame, that dances with fear.

When my wife puts together an insurance quote, I just don't believe she gets the same insecure chill I get when I hand over a draft of something I've written.

"It sucks, it sucks!"

I think this every time. Sure, there's the occasional random echo of "it's really good," but I recognize that for what it is: wishing.

I always expect them to hate it.

Two recent projects reminded me of my lingering sense of self-doubt.

A few weeks ago I handed in a chapter I'd written for an upcoming book. Good God, I've failed, I thought. I've missed the boat entirely. I'm up to my chin in water, gonna drown, I suck, glug glug glug. And so I write a mildly apologetic cover letter and send it off. Then I sulk.

And then yesterday -- I wrote a quickie business overview document for a friend. (A little ten-page dealio to hand off to a potential investor.) Ugh. "This is a deeply flawed document," I write to him, or something like that. And then misery. A Budweiser and some pulp fiction before bed.

And this torment is not over my languishing novel. It's over business stuff!

But here's the flipside of that self-pitying coin: I tend not to suck. (Apparently I don't believe this enough, though.)

The business book chapter? The guy loved it.

The business overview document? I'll quote the e-mail I received this morning:

"This is OUTSTANDING."

At what point will I get out of my own way and just be comfortable as a writer?

Maybe I should try "never" on for size.