"Look, Father, at what I've made," she says, and whether she's created a scribble, a sketch, a mural, or a novel, I think God says, "Well done, my daughter. How about another?"
I don't think we should constantly and obsessively question whether or not what we're writing is truthful or good, but ask ourselves at the very end if we would like to publish it, and go from there. I'd like my art to be more like prayer, like a knotted ribbon I can loosen and tie into a beautiful bow.
L.M. Montgomery, one of my very favorite authors, once wrote, "Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?" I've found that quote bittersweet and true, the last word yet reminding me that tomorrow will often come lugging a bundle of mistakes. Strewn with mistakes or not, tomorrow is something I continuously look forward to as I drink in evening silence. Come morning, I hope to humbly speak from a place of truthful silence where pure tomorrow lives, and I hope my art to be wise and good, but not to burden myself with having to be perfectly truthful always. Amen.