I haven’t written much lately. I don’t feel much will to do it, and I don’t feel clear about why I should. Some of that is probably burnout. Some of it is the slow realisation that very few people care about what I write. The lack of feedback makes that worse. It turns into doubt, not just about the work, but about the point of creating at all. I sometimes think I should read my own books for answers. Almost no one buys them. That fact loops in my head. If no one wants to pay for this, maybe I shouldn’t be making it. I don’t know if the answer is to stop, or to get better, or to accept something about how this works. It isn’t all bad. I set my books to free and thirty people downloaded them in a day. That means something, even if I don’t know what yet. I still wish someone would leave a review. Silence feels heavier than criticism. There’s another layer underneath all of this. I’ve chosen to become a Christian, and it’s unsettling me more than I expected. I’m committed, but I’m not settled. My values are shifting, or maybe being stripped back and rearranged. I can’t tell yet. I know I can’t take this on borrowed certainty. I have to work it out for myself, slowly, probably awkwardly. That’s how I’ve always been. I’ve been praying a lot, mostly at night, mostly in my head. Mostly for clarity. Sometimes I ask for more than that, but I catch myself and smile. For now, this is where I am. #creation Published 2-9-2025 Written on https://freewriter.app