When skills become like roadkill on a rainy day

Right after I graduated from college, I would sometimes read stuff that I wrote as a student. Some of them were even published. And I’d be like: was I really such a horrible writer? How did crap like this even get published?

Today, I stumbled upon story drafts wrote a couple of years ago but never finished. And I can’t help but be like: damn, this is SO gooood. Too good, in fact.

And then I look at the stuff I write now and I’m like: What happened? Did my skills actually degrade? What happened to getting better over time? Can I PLEASE have that me back? You know, just until I finish a book or two (or three or four)?


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