Hemmingway Did Not Mean It.

Hey Kids,

I’m a writer. I write books. Not a lot yet, but I have a couple available.

I spend a lot of my free time writing. I write first drafts, I edit, and I work on the extra things like covers, descriptions, marketing, etc.

It’s my second job.

It can be difficult to figure out how to write things so they are understood as you meant them to be understood; the reader shouldn’t have to guess. It’s difficult to leave the room while others are watching something you would like to watch as well but you need to write. It’s difficult to work when it seems a good time to take a nap but you need to write. When you need to write, there are a bazillion other things that might be more fun, but that’s part of the second job thing. Nobody gets to skip their cashier job at Kwiki-Mart because there’s a new season of Game of Thrones starting. Why would a writer get a medal for writing, i.e. doing his or her job?

Writing, however, is not digging ditches; in fact, it’s much easier. It’s not mystical. There are practices that help people “get in the mood”, but these are all self-inflicted. Magic pixie dust will not be withheld because you forgot to wear your inspirational multicolored socks.

Get over it. Writing is writing words and conveying stories, messages, or information. It’s talking with your fingers on a keyboard. Sometimes it’s amazing what lies in wait to be tapped in one’s head. But in the end, that stuff was already in your head- you just let it out because you decided to write.

Write because you love it. Write because it’s your job. No one holds a gun to your head and no one will.Write-Bleed

Funny, but no blood required.

Just write.


Day 53

2 thoughts on “Hemmingway Did Not Mean It.

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