To write with belief

I often wonder if others can see, feel and hear, touch, smell and taste my characters.  Is the setting real enough that they feel the darkness creeping and smell the smoke from the candle so recently snuffed?  When I wonder these things, I got back a few days later to reread.  Often I am pleased.  Sometimes I am not. 

I know that I can convey a scene in such a way that it moves my reader along, sweeping them away on the currents of dream, be they sweet and salty or dark and terrifying.

It is with belief in myself that I write.  It is with belief in the worlds and characters that I love, and lust and sometimes hate, that I dare to call myself a storyteller.  This belief cannot be taught.  It cannot be trained.  It must be harnessed from successes and failures and the continual honing of skills based on innate talent.

A DJ once told me that he didn't like my friends, who were in a pretty decent rock band.
I asked why.
He replied, "Because they're all cocky little shits."
"Of course they are," I said.  "They wouldn't be able to get on stage and do what they do otherwise."

Write with belief.  Love with belief.  Fight with belief.  And when your time comes, DIE with belief, belief that you did all you could with what was given you.  And those who are not at least willing to try to believe in you, scrape them off lest they burden your wings and ground you in stoney earth.

Listening to Heart- Go on Cry