Write now. Stop getting distracted by other blogs, by the Internet at large, by another bottle of San Pellegrino Limonata. Write, now, you should be writing, you should be working hard at your novel, because you want to finish and publish and see your name on a book jacket through the window of a bookstore. Stop talking yourself out of it, stop being scared that you'll fail before you begin, stop stopping yourself. Write now. Begin. Write now you are sitting here without the boy without the dog without plans with nothing but a night ahead, write now you are success waiting to happen, you are stories bursting through your seams, you are words, words, words and you know this, sometimes, better than you know your own name. Fingers on the keys. Write now.
It's lonely. It's hard. But what can you do? It's your very self, so you must write. Just one more sentence of procrastination longer and...
No more excuses. You are brilliant and clever and it's just the shitty first draft which no one will read anyhow, so you've nothing to lose. You know you will anyhow, so you might as well get to it.
Write, now.
The photo is misleading, you see. I feel that if you actually had a typewriter and were maybe dressed like a ballerina, you'd have no trouble finding your muse. No trouble at all.
ReplyDeleteEven if things didn't work out, you'd still have the typewriter and the tutu. Still good, I say.
I should definitely be wearing a tutu. I need to get on that.
ReplyDelete