Hey, folks. As I start writing this, I’m just back from 4th Street Fantasy, where we had what seemed to me an absolutely successful convention. I’m full of big ideas for stories (so of course I have to revise a novel) and bubbling over with the companionship and fellow-feeling of my colleagues.

It was, indeed, a very good time.

One thing I took away from the conversation, though, is how much almost all of us seem to struggle with impostor syndrome. And how much success seems to freak us out.

Possibly it’s because, for so many of us, getting published is a long ego-destroying slog requiring massive amounts of self-criticism and editing. We learn how to take our deepest emotions, our most dearly-held stories, and make them accessible for others.