I hereby confess to the following:

(i) I confess that I have neglected sufficient time to my writing ambitions.

(ii) I confess I am never satisfied with any of my work.

(iii) I confess that I am a dreamer.

(iv) I confess I am an vociferous reader of novels. Absorbing myself in fiction instead of reality.

(v) I confess that I see a potential story everywhere I look though I am unable to focus these ideas into constructive literature.

(v) I confess that I have a wavering confidence in my work.

(vi) I confess to wasting my time in jobs to pay the bills, instead of actively and conscientiously pursuing my dream of writing.

(vii) I confess that I have the inability to turn my mind off, which causes no end of problems.

These are my confessions. There are more. At present that is all I care to divulge.