Digging into the world of creative writing is like peeling back the outer layers of your soul. You start slowly, a little poke to form a small hole and see what happens. Some words flow out and take a small shape, like a green-eyed elf in a peaceful village, looking down from the top of a hill and witnessing a travesty occurring below.
Then you do a little nick in that armor. Your character is enraged and full of passion. He springs into action.
The nicks turn into cuts as they peel out the depth of your vision. Things become not as they appear. Trusts get formed, and some broken. Plots widen, conflicts erupt.
You find yourself shivering in the cold, naked, and your armor sprawled out before you in the form of thousands of words. But your heart remains warm because you did it. You finished.
Is it a masterpiece?
Does it matter?
You finished.