An excerpt from the new post: Brooklyn is a wonderful place to be young and creative. Everyone (well, maybe not everyone, but it seems that way) is an artist, a writer, a musician, a designer. The place bristles with energy. Imagination. New ideas. It’s exhilarating, for sure. But sometimes it can be downright intimidating. Everyone seems so cool, confident, and creative, it’s easy to feel discouraged about my own burgeoning career as a writer. It’s easy to feel small. Do I stand out? Is my work good enough? Is my writing terrible? Worse, is it boring?