I swore to several people I'd write a book. A novel. Fiction. I've been told I have the talent to draw people into my writing, surround them with a word-world of my making. And yet...
I have over 100 word files of stories that were only just conceived, on my computer. Aborted fetuses of tales that I've never finished.
I don't know what I fear more: The possibility of success, or failure.
I agree with Ben. The first thing I ever got printed felt so good. It felt as though I actually accomplished doing something I enjoy. Great feeling, even if it sucked horribly.
The thing is, unlike the aborted foetuses, your ideas can be resurrected. They continue to live in potential. It means you have plenty of material from which to work. Don't just give up on them.
I'll get something done eventually. I'm going to set some time aside, Away from the Internet, for writing and drawing every day. Got too much crud to get out of my mind, so hopefully some of my mind-fetuses will turn into mindbabies worth sharing with the world.