Let’s be serious for a second.
No, this post isn’t about teenage wangst, it’s about writers. I want to address the damage we do to ourselves and our art. I’m talking about all the self-loathing, inward revulsion and internalized contempt. Every writer knows the pain of progress and the fear of failure. We know the tidal wave of odds against us. Well, I want to tell you something. All you can do is try.
Don’t try to save the world with your words. Forget the glitter of fame. Ignore everyone and write. People say there’s this “competition,” but I’m not going to slice your throat with a rusty straight razor to sell a book. The only competition you have is yourself. Only you can write those words or not. Only you can put in those proverbial “10,000” hours.
It’s not easy, believe me I get that. But one day you will die, okay? If you don’t believe in yourself and write that book, who will?
Cut that shit out. Get through the defeatist drudgery and finish.
Photo via porschelinn