Death of an Inner Critic

Written for the "Silence Your Inner Critic" Contest

“Alright…all set, time to get started on this thing.”

“So, I see that you’re still talking to yourself. Old habits die hard, eh ol’ buddy?”

“Ah, you. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Ya mean it, really?”

“Does it matter, really?”

“Heh heh, how ya doin’ big guy? Long time no see.”

“Yeah, hey….good, thanks. Took a vacation.”

“Ooooooh, nice. Aruba?”

“No, actually it was more of a mental th-”

“Yeah cool. Listen, I know it’s been a while, but good call on scrapping that last story. Too much dialogue, there wasn’t nearly enough there to keep the reader’s attention. Good try though. We’ll get ‘em next time, right tiger?”

“Right, next time. Whatever.”

“Whoa, is Mr. Grumpyface having a bad day?”

“Actually, no offense but I’m no longer concerned with your opinions.”

“Well, this ought to be a quick conversation.”

“I’d be so lucky.”

“Heh heh, so it’s been a while, figured maybe you quit, you know finally came to your senses and moved on. I guess not. I do see that the computer’s on, so obviously you can still afford to pay the electric-that’s a good thing.”

“Very funny. Like I said, I took some time off. Some time to think”

“Aww, you always do the fun stuff when we’re apart. Why don’t you ever take me on vacation with you?”

“Hmm…well, let’s see. First of all you serve a purpose, and that purpose simply does not exist outside of this place. Secondly and much more importantly, more times than not it is you, my friend, that I am seeking solace from. In this particular instance, you were actually the main topic.”

“Me?”

“Yep, you.”

“Really, I’m honored. Wow, who would’ve thought? And to what do I owe this dubious distinction?”

“I need you to leave.”

“Come again.”

“I need you to leave. Move on, as you put it. Be gone. History. Extinct.”

“Sure, sure. I hear ya, and all this time I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, we’re friends just fine, except one little thing. Do you realize that I have never, ever considered a piece of my work finished in my entire life?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Never?”

“Ever.”

“Now why do you think that is? Hmm? Shall we ponder? Let’s see, I’m thirty-five and been through it all and then a bit, so the ideas are a plenty. No issue there. I’ve started somewhere in the realm of four hundred and fifty different stories. Four Hundred and fifty! Now don’t you think I should have finished at least one by now? I mean seriously….just one. If nothing else I should’ve finished one by accident.”

“Never, really? Not one?”

“I mean, at first you were very helpful. Those first few ideas back in high school were not as award worthy as I may have thought at the time. I know this now, trust me. Nor am I assuming that I’m a future bestseller waiting to happen.”

“You know an extremely small percentage of authors actually end up on the bests-”

“I know. See that’s what I’m talking about. Between you and my parents, I’ve always had someone to remind me how easy it is to fail. But what I’ve realized is that I don’t care if I end up on the bestsellers list, I don’t care if I make any list. I want to try. I just want to know, one way or another. I want to complete something. To accomplish, even in failure.”

“But-”

“I’m tired of being afraid to fail! And I’m sick of you coming up with reason after reason as to why I should be. If I don’t get rid of you now, I’ll never know what I am capable of.”

“But without me who will save you from embarrassment and ridicule? And editing…you know you can't edit anything without me.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“You can’t be a writer without an inner critic! That’s like an airplane without wings. It’s just not natural! And it doesn’t work! Without us every publication on the planet would just be a bunch of meaningless babble.”

“You mean like Fox News?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll still take my chances.”

“You really are serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

“I can’t believe you really want me to go. I mean I didn’t hate everything you wrote over the years. Um, I know, that one piece about the South Florida Chinch Bug you did was very educational.”

“Too little.”

“And what about that lobster love story you did back in high school? What was that called? Don’t be Shellfish with My Heart, that was it. Great read, really man. Loved the characters. Good, good stuff. Witty too.”

“Too late.”

“Ok, let’s pretend for a moment that you are serious. What am I supposed to do when I leave here? This is all I know. I’ve been picking on you like the Gooch picked on Arnold Drummond since before I can remember.”

“Did you just reference Diff’rent Strokes?”

“Yeah. That was nice huh? See, that’s why you need me around, I’m a thinker. I’m ready to be successful too. I promise. No more negativity. No more messing around, we’re going straight to the top baby.”

“Nope. I’m going it solo from here on out. It’s been real nice working with ya all these years. Don’t let the door hit ya in the-”

“But where will I go!?”

“Again, not my issue. Figure it out. Go hang out by a college or something. There are plenty of up and coming authors that could use your talents. Besides, it’s boring around here anyway. You deserve a young aggressive writer. You know, full of vigor, ready to take on the world.”

“You think so? Really?”

“Sure. I’m nearly past my prime even if I did manage to finally finish something. I mean, think about it. You’re wasting your time here. There are good writers, writers with actual talent, just wandering aimlessly though that desert of expectation. And mister, they need you like a cool drink of water. And you, well, you deserve them.”

“You know what. Maybe you’re right. They do need me. I do deserve them. And let’s face it; there are better duos out there than us.”

“See, now you’re making sense.”

“I don’t need to hang around this dingy old place anymore.”

“Right, right.”

“I can go to Florida, or Hawaii. Do they have colleges in Hawaii? ”

“Oh yeah, good ones.”

“And you’ll be ok without me? You’re sure?”

“I’ll manage, somehow.”

“Well then, I guess this is goodbye. I never meant to hurt you, you know.”

“I know. You always had the best of intentions. No hard feelings.”

“Good luck, really. I’ll be watching for that bestseller, don’t let me down.”

“You got it. Thanks again for all the help over the years. Everything in our past has contributed to our present. No regrets. Good bye old friend.”

“Good bye.”

“Ok now, where was I? Oh yes, time to get started on this thing.”


Word Count:1177