For almost as long as I have been writing, I have been somewhat stunned by the size of the egos of writers.
Let me rephrase that.
Some writers.
Usually the not-so-good ones.
It's a bit like those people who get up and try out for American Idol. The louder they are about being "all that, and a bag of chips," typically the less actual talent they have. In fact, most of their talent seems to be in the realm of convincing people how GREAT they are, while the actual greatness is sadly lacking.
A friend of mine-- who's an editor at a literary 'zine-- has often shared that the peskiest and most annoying submitters are the ones who can't write their way out of a paper bag.
Similarly, some of the greatest writing I have read came from people who barely considered themselves "writers," and would dismiss accolades with words like "I dabble a bit, on occasion."
Makes me ponder whether we-- as human beings in all aspects of-- tend to substitute bluster and bravado for actual talent and ability.
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