Insecure?

Is it wrong to state that I know I can write? I'm no Rowling or Tolkien or Poe. (Though I've been told I'm related to Poe in some odd, round about way. That would explain the vast collection of ravens about the house.) I'm not insecure in my ability to write. Perhaps I'm insecure in the future reception of my work? No...not really. I mean, I'm a bit nervous as to how it will be received by the agents and publishers of the world. But I feel there's a market for what I write. I'm not insecure about that. What am I insecure about? Easy. I'm insecure in my butt-in-chair technique. Meaning: I have a vast storehouse of ideas -story ideas, novel ideas- that I love and really feel good about but they will never get written if I don't write them. What causes this ambivalence toward my writing desk? Why do I shudder when I see my computer? Why do I rush past it as it blinks at me, whispering tales of magical worlds, haunted train stations and possessed paintings? Maybe I don't believe in the stories themselves. Or maybe, just maybe my insecurity lies in my ability to tell them as true and raw as possible. I know I can tell a story. I know I have good story ideas. But to tell a good story in such a way that the reader, heck, the author herself, is THERE, in the story, as a character, a chair, a rock, the path down which the villain stomps. Do I have that in me? Am I strong enough to write the bones and blood and skin and guts that are necessary to bring these Frankenstein monsters to life? There. I found it. My insecurity. Can I write the truth? ___ This post is a part of Alex Cavanaugh's Insecure Writer's Support Group. Find links to more inspiring posts HERE. Thanks again, Alex!