writing inspiration – Meg Dowell Writes

You Could Do Better

You don’t know what “best” really means.

Apr 29, 2017Apr 28, 2017 Meg DowellLeave a comment

I used to cringe every time someone gave me constructive criticism.

It’s still not my favorite thing to swallow. Feedback from my editor is a given — professionals are trained to give a balance of praise and criticism to motivate writers to continuously improve from assignment to assignment. Clients, on the other hand, aren’t always trained editors or even experienced writers. Sometimes their “feedback” is a little too blunt for my self-esteem to take lightly, I’m not going to lie.

The phrase that used to trip me up the most, though, has become one of my favorite lines of feedback from people I’m writing for: “You could do better.”

It’s not always spoken straight — it’s not the nicest-sounding phrase you’ll ever hear or offer to another person. But its implications are actually more motivational than the most inspirational quote on Tunblr.

It means: “This was fine. But I know you’re capable of more.”

“Great. Now let’s make the next one even better.”

“Awesome! So here are some things you can do next time to double the awesomeness.”

You can always — ALWAYS — do better.

In the past, I always took this to mean the work I was doing wasn’t good to begin with. But that’s usually not the case. Most of the time, “better” means above average, while your original work was simply average. You did all right the first time. But you’re not reaching your full potential yet.

I don’t believe you’re ever doing your absolute best, especially in writing. You’re always improving, even when you don’t notice it. It’s very difficult to track subtle, gradual changes in your style, but it’s happening. So the writing you’re doing right now might be great. But it’s not as good as something you’re going to write a year, a month, maybe even a week from now. If you write with the mindset that your best work is yet to come, you’ll never stop striving to improve.

And that’s probably one of the best things that will ever happen to you, writer.

There’s unlimited motivation hidden in that thought pattern. “You could do better” could become the primary driving force of your entire creative operation. It’s become mine. I’ve accepted that things like views and followers and the like are usually meaningless when it comes to the quality of my work — but the better I get at what I do, the more satisfied I am with myself.

If I do happen to write a bad article every once in awhile — it happens — it doesn’t destroy my confidence. Someone telling me to do better next time is literally just telling me to do better next time. It’s not commentary on my skill level or the value of my existence as a writer. It’s just the truth.

You can always do better. Don’t forget that. You haven’t peaked, you’re not exactly where you want to be. You’re where you are right now. And they’re SO much more ahead of you, as long as you keep moving forward.

Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a freelance writer and a nine-time NaNoWriMo winner with work published in Teen Ink, Success Story, Lifehack and USA TODAY College. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.

What Changed When I Stopped Complaining About Work (and Why It Matters)

Your attitude changes things.

Mar 31, 2017Mar 30, 2017 Meg DowellLeave a comment

Everyone complains.

It doesn’t matter if you do it through a Facebook status or it stays inside your head (or you mumble it quietly to your giant stuffed panda, who does not respond).

A little bit of complaining here and there is normal – maybe even healthy, sort of. But if you know someone who seems to not be able to open their mouth without complaining about something, you know how destructive this habit can be if you indulge too much.

The most destructive kind of complaining, I’ve found, is complaining about work.

Work is inevitable. You have to do it whether you like it or not. Many people do not like it, and don’t hesitate to shout that loud and clear.

I’m one of those people, naturally, for a lot of reasons. When I’m not happy about something, the first thought that usually pops into my head is a complaint.

I realized, about six months into a very frustrating career as a freelance writer, that complaining didn’t actually solve anything. I could complain about the sometimes outrageous demands of my clients as much as I wanted to. That didn’t make anything better. I still had to do the work. I still had to struggle. I still had to find a way to make it work.

Eventually, I stopped complaining. At least, as much as any sane human being can.

That’s when everything changed.

The work didn’t get any easier. Writing rarely does. My income didn’t increase the moment I stopped whining, even to myself, about every little thing throughout my day that didn’t go right.

When I stopped complaining, I actually started paying more attention to why certain things upset me. The sources of my dissatisfaction became much clearer: I was tired of working the equivalent of a full-time job without getting paid what someone with my amount of writing experience deserved. I was frustrated that some of my clients spoke to me as if I didn’t understand what they were asking me to do (far from it).

Mostly, I realized that dedicating all my work hours to freelancing, at least the way I was doing it, wasn’t working. I complained about my job(s) because I was mad at myself for acting so ungrateful to have a steady income in the first place, which many, many people my age did not have.

I was literally complaining about how much I was complaining about work.

It took breaking that habit to understand that my work was making me unhappy.

Don’t get me wrong – I love to write. I love working. I legitimately enjoy what I do, and always have. But the first six months of freelance writing for anyone is more often than not a train wreck. I didn’t even notice how emotionally draining and stressful some of my projects were (or, maybe the people in charge of them). Until I did.

That was what inspired me to start searching for the kind of work that would make me feel energized instead of drained. It took almost eight more months of freelancing to find that work, but it flew by. Because I stopped, as much as I could, complaining about having a job.

Your attitude toward writing makes more of a difference than you think. If you’re not happy about where you are, complaining – a lot – isn’t the right solution. That frustration, that exhaustion, should inspire you to find and work harder to earn the kinds of opportunities that bring you joy.

I’m a much happier human being overall now that I complain less. I’m still going to complain here and there – we all do. But at least now I know that with every complaint, there’s an underlying, unresolved issue that needs my attention. It’s up to me to focus on fixing that – not spending all the remaining energy I have stomping my foot when things don’t go my way.

Have a Dream – But Do More Than Dream

There’s nothing wrong with dreaming.

Mar 29, 2017Mar 28, 2017 Meg DowellLeave a comment

“I’m a dreamer. I’m constantly daydreaming and plotting and scheming … if it just sounds like talk to some or pipe dreams to others, who cares? These dreams drive me, keep me motivated, and help me create.” – Casey Bowers, mercenary writer (Hustle Economy, p. 109)

There’s nothing wrong with dreaming.

It’s how all goals are born. First you dream of writing for a living, and then …

What? Oh, right. You make it happen.

Dreams are wishes – they won’t get you what they want. Not alone, anyway. But dreams do have special powers: motivational powers. Powers that inspire you and keep you focused. They help you write, even when some part of you is convinced it’s pointless.

Or they can. If you let them.

I don’t remember exactly when I realized how important writing was to me. I don’t think I “dreamed” of being a writer until I was in high school. That was when I was first told that I could actually do something practical with my words (whereas music up to that point had been a hobby I already knew I wasn’t fit to pursue a career in, even though I secretly dreamed I could).

If it weren’t for my freshman English teacher, who first encouraged me to take a creative writing class and suggested I start submitting my work to magazines, I’m not sure if my dream of being a writer would have ever gone to that next stage – from dream to goal. At some point it did. At some point, writing became the thing I wanted to do “when I grew up.”

There’s a reason you should never let go of a dream as soon as you create a goal, especially as a writer: making a career out of anything is work, and sometimes, work is exhausting. Too much work, without much reward, can leave you feeling discouraged and yeah, sometimes even tempt you to quit.

It’s my dream of writing all day, every day, that got me through the tough times that come along with deciding you want to pursue a creative profession. I’ve been through it all: working for free, working for unreasonably low pay, rejection because I demanded better pay, being micro-managed to a point where I had no choice but to quit (I can’t wait to tell that story someday) – a lot of the time, this is not fun.

But it’s not supposed to be. Work is work. That’s what dreams are for. THAT is the fun part.

In between two exhausting assignments, you’re allowed to daydream. You’re allowed to think, someday, I’m not going to have to put up with this anymore. If that’s what gives you strength, if that’s what gets you through the lowest rankings as a writer, than keep your dreams alive. Let your imagination run as far as it wants to run. You can’t get to where you want to be without work. But you also can’t work – not happily – if you don’t have a dream to keep you going.

“Making it” as a writer is some unspecified balance of active work and casual daydreaming. You know where you want to be. When things aren’t going as well as you’d hoped, you still have that dream to go back to. It may not be everything you’ve always wanted yet. But it will be. Don’t give up.

There’s More to Writing Than Just Writing

So much more.

Mar 25, 2017Mar 24, 2017 Meg DowellLeave a comment

Writing is hard. A lot harder than many people think. But why? How hard can telling a story really be?

Hard.

There’s a reason writing is such a draining, yet rewarding process. Because when it comes down to it, you’re not just writing.

Oh, you do a lot of writing. Day after day after day.

Then you finish writing whatever it is you’re writing …

And that’s just the beginning.

Writing online is more of a long, strategic process than many people realize. First there’s the whole coming up with an idea, doing research, writing, editing chain of events we’re all familiar with. Then there’s photos. SEO. Social media promotion. Link building, expert outreach, responding to comments, commenting on other people’s work …

It goes on. And on. And it does not stop.

And the more you build up an online presence, the harder all of this becomes.

Not “hard” as in “I can’t do it.” Hard. Like, wow, this takes some actual effort. So anyone who thinks sitting here, writing and hitting publish is all we do all day — no. Just … no.

The deeper I dive into writing as a business — as a career — the more I want to communicate this reality to writers who are still figuring this whole thing out. It’s a LOT more work than you think it will be. It’s working late on a Friday to catch up on answering comments that have built up over the past week. Forcing yourself to write when you’re all burned out of ideas. Getting paid to do a lot of it, but nearly enough for the amount of hours you put in to create good things.

I’m not complaining. I love what I do. Even the free stuff.

But my heart breaks for anyone who comes into this thinking there’s an easy way to make it work. Because there isn’t. I joked last week about “instant success,” but in hindsight, it really wasn’t a joke. Content comes first — of COURSE it does. Everything after that … there’s just not one way to do it that’s going to be 100 percent effective for everyone. You have to learn by doing. You have to put in the hours upon hours of work to figure out what’s going to work for YOU.

A lot of people just haven’t been doing this long enough yet to have the stamina to stick with it. Many figure it out – but many just don’t make it that far. And as much as I wish there was more I could do to help, it’s hard. Just like everything else. I can say “just keep at it” over and over and over again (and I do). But it’s up to each individual person to make it happen for themselves, in the end.

It’s so much more than putting words on a screen. Working alone, as so many writers do, you don’t get to just hand your work off to someone else to take care of. It’s all on you. It’s all on us.

I believe anyone who truly wants to write full-time, who wants to make a career out of it, can do it. I really do. I want to see you succeed.

Just be prepared. Prepare to work harder than you ever have before. And when you feel like you couldn’t possibly be working and harder … you have to work even harder.

You can do it. That’s all I can say. You can. Whether or not you do – well, that’s up to you.

Why I Haven’t Finished Writing a Book in Two Years

There’s a pretty good reason.

Mar 23, 2017Mar 22, 2017 Meg DowellLeave a comment

When I was a sophomore in college, I wrote over 100,000 words in two weeks.

I don’t know how I wrote an entire novel in 15 days. I don’t remember a single one of them. But it happened. I have a hardcopy draft to prove it.

That’s how I used to write fiction: fast, yet thorough. Some mysterious creative hyperdrive in my brain just kicked in, and I got some really cool stories out of it.

The past two Novembers, I have started writing books. I have yet to finish either of them.

I’m trying. I’m making very slow progress (but still progress!) on my novel from NaNoWriMo 2015. But we’re talking a few hundred words a day. I am, apparently, in no rush to finish.

Yet I can’t wait to finish, to be able to put it behind me. To never have to look at it again.

The reason I haven’t just given up on it is because, honestly, I finish what I start. It’s just what I do.

The reason I haven’t finished yet is a little more complicated.

When I wrote that novel in 15 days, even though I didn’t know it at the time, I was fast-approaching a major crossroads in my future career as a writer. You see, many people dream of publishing novels, of becoming best-selling authors. I did, at the time. I still do, every once in awhile.

Some people dream of a different kind of writing life – one that is, let’s be honest, easier. Not in the sense that it takes less work, of course. Journalism, or blogging, or being hired to write listicles. I spent many years of my life trying to convince myself I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to stick with the harder option. I had something to prove, I guess.

Then I realized my interest in health and my ability to arrange words nicely on a page were a match made to last. It took me about six years to turn that into a legitimate career, but I’ve done it, somehow.

As much as I don’t feel comfortable saying it … there’s just not as much time for writing fiction as there used to be.

I don’t have 15 days of empty space, during which I might write a novel about bees.

I would love to have more time. I just don’t.

I realized very recently that I no longer felt guilty for not spending as much time writing fiction as I used to. I’ve “made it,” as they say. I get up, I go to work, and I write. All day long. I come home. I write some blog posts, I write some articles, I slide into PJs and read and I am happy.

For someone who used to daydream about doing nothing but write novels for the rest of my life, this is strange. Knowing that publishing a book is no longer on my list of things to do before I turn 25.

It’s not that I’ll never write fiction again. I write fiction every day. I just spend minutes doing so, instead of hours. Writing stories is as essential for my wellbeing as breathing, and I mean that literally. My mental health depends upon transforming racing thoughts into some original burst of prose.

But I always dreamed of being a writer. I don’t care how I spend my hours writing, as long as I’m writing. As long as I’m doing what I’ve always known I was supposed to do.

It is freeing, to know there is no longer any pressure to finish a book.

It means I’m much more likely to actually do it.

I’m not making any promises. But I’ll keep at it. 100 words at a time.

If Everyone in the World Read the Words You Published Next, What Would You Write?

If your words had infinite reach, how would you use them?

Mar 21, 2017Mar 20, 2017 Meg DowellLeave a comment

If your words had infinite reach, how would you use them?

If you had one chance to reach everyone, everywhere, right now – what would you say?

What are the first words that come to mind?

Which topic would you choose as your focus?

What would your angle be?

How would you feel, writing it all down?

The answers to all of these questions are what make up your mission. Your purpose. The one thing in a single lifetime you set out to accomplish with the help of your words.

A long time ago, I stopped using the following phrases:

My words don’t matter
No one is listening to me
I’m not important enough to make a difference.

Because what do I – what do we – know about any of these things? If we had a chance to publish something everyone would see, we would write about the same things we’re writing about now.

Wouldn’t we?

And if we wouldn’t – then what are we doing with our time?

If you aspire to write in such a way, with such an audience, that helps you change the world as well as the people in it, then you should already be writing about the things that matter most to you. You should already be spreading the exact messages you would send to every person in the world, if you could.

The best way to make good use of your time is to write as if your words DO matter. As if EVERYONE is listening. Like you ARE important enough to make a difference.

So. What would you write about?

Rather – what are you going to start writing about today?

Because today isn’t just another day. It’s a new beginning. Or it could be, if you let it.

Write something meaningful today, as if the world is ready and waiting to read it. Because for all you know, they are. Online is still a wondrous thing, in that you don’t always know who is out there reading what you write; benefiting from what you say; living out the advice you give. It’s lovely to know when a specific person is listening. It’s thrilling to imagine everyone who might be, though you may never know for sure.

If nothing else, write because there’s a possibility your words are someone else’s hope. The world feels very big, and you feel very small inside it, until you realize there’s a lot you don’t know about how far your words can reach.

To think over seven billion people will read your words all at once might be wishful thinking. But you’re a writer. Nothing is impossible when making up realities is your job.

What Kinds of Stories Do You Want to Tell?

These are the kinds of questions you have to ask yourself.

Feb 27, 2017 Meg Dowell1 Comment

Viola Davis won her first Oscar last night for her supporting role in Fences. Of course, she had to follow up a much-deserved win with a speech the internet isn’t going to forget (for another 24 hours or so, at least).

Every Academy Award winner’s speech is different – understandably so – but as a writer and long-time story lover, I can’t help but adore the ones that highlight not only an artist’s dependence upon, but their appreciation for where all books, shows and movies begin – the stories.

Before thanking her many support systems, Davis finished up her tribute to storytelling with the quote still circulating on social media platforms as I write this:

“We [artists] are the only profession that celebrates what it means to live a life.”

(You can watch her full speech here.)

This doesn’t just apply to actors – it applies to everyone involved in the production of a work of art. The directors. Set designers. Composers. And yes, the writers, too.

Never forget that in your hobby, in your career, in your life, you have choices. As a writer, you get to choose the kinds of stories you want to tell. You have the power to showcase the lives of both extraordinary and ordinary people – people who have achieved their dreams and people who haven’t. Characters who have happy endings, and characters who don’t.

Never forget that every story begins with some kind of life. Each character may be surrounded by a particular environment or event, but a good story isn’t about what you decide is going to happen to a character. A good story is about how you decide a character is going to react to everything that happens to them, what they are going to learn, how they are going to change. Sometimes, they’ll thrive. Sometimes, they’ll crumble. But that’s a reflection of real life – of living, whether there’s a happily ever after or not.

Though it may not always seem like it, you have complete control over the kinds of stories you want to tell. Who are you going to give a voice to? What do you want a reader to know, to feel, to remember, to believe? These are the kinds of questions you have to ask yourself. These are the motivations for every artist, however they tell stories – celebrating living, in all its ups and downs, in all its truths and lies. Every element of a story has a purpose. It’s up to you, the writer, to create it, to have faith in it, to make it heard.

Congrats, Viola – and thank you for helping to bring so many writers’ stories to life, in the past, present and future!

Your Breaking Point

Is it time to quit?

Feb 20, 2017 Meg DowellLeave a comment

Everyone has one. In the moment, you can’t help but thinking, ‘THIS IS TOO MUCH. I CAN’T DO IT ANYMORE. I’M DONE.”

At that point, maybe you step away for a few minutes or hours or days or longer. When it comes to writing, I know some of you – maybe many of you – are tempted to just jump ship for good.

This is why I’m here to tell you that this is not the time to quit.

You might think it is, but you’re wrong.

When you’ve reached that point when you feel like you just can’t go any further – you couldn’t possibly put up with one more day of all this – THAT is when you go after what you want with all the strength you have left in you.

Whether you believe in God or many gods or the Force or whatever, it always seems to work out the same way: just before you crash through your breaking point, something good happens. Something comes along and sets you on the right path again.

Maybe it’s not what you’ve been waiting for, maybe it seems small and you’re tempted to throw a tantrum because this is not what you wanted. But how unbearably mundane would life be if we got every single thing we ever wanted, whenever we wanted it?

We pay many prices for waiting, for holding out until the storm passes or racing through it headfirst, but there is always a reward. There is always a bright spot in the darkness.

I know it’s hard to stay faithful when you’re in that horrible place when everything you create seems to get lost in the void – when you’re working so hard to make something of yourself and it feels like not even a single head is turned in your direction. Oh, do I know. I’ve spent a lot of time in that place. And the advice to “keep writing anyway” seems overused, unhelpful – unwanted.

But it’s always the advice we don’t want to keep hearing that we need to listen to until it clicks.

You may feel like writing is getting you nowhere, but that’s because you’re moving very slowly down a very long road. You have no overhead view – you can’t see where you’re going to end up. These slow, sometimes desperate times are physically and emotionally painful. It’s Monday morning – maybe you woke up today and your first thought was, “The last thing I want to do is get up and write.”

For all you know, what you write today could be the catalyst that sets the rest of your writing career in motion. You forget that, publishing things on the internet, you often don’t know who’s watching, even before you take a leap and reach out to someone to, basically, notice you, and acknowledge your hard work in some way or another.

It’s not as hard as you think it is. Really. Even if you feel like you’re dragging your brain through every single word, it’s one more word you wrote today even though you didn’t feel like it. That’s an accomplishment. Small accomplishments add up. An 80,000-word novel is pretty much just 80,000 very small victories. Because God (gods, the Force) knows, you’re not going to write all of those words happily. I don’t know of any writer who loves writing every single word of a project, big or small.

I like to think – and there is no scientific evidence of this that I’m aware of, for the record – that every time you approach your breaking point, but don’t give up, you build up a little more tolerance – and your breaking point shifts a little further away. So you can endure more. You can withstand more of the things that make writing daily a major pain.

Don’t quit. And if you want to quit, write about quitting instead and see how that makes you feel. Maybe you’ll accidentally prove to yourself you CAN keep writing – just not about the same things you’ve been forcing yourself to write about until you’ve grown sick of them.

Lift your head up, now. Get back to writing.

Why We Continue to Doubt Ourselves, Even As We Improve

You are, and always will be, your harshest critic.

Feb 5, 2017 Meg DowellLeave a comment

Have you ever just stared at a thing you just wrote and thought, “I’m not even good at this?”

Chances are, you’re probably pretty good at it. At least compared to your skill level when you first started writing.

We doubt ourselves way too often, and it inhibits our confidence – sometimes, even our success. But why? Why is it so easy to believe we’re bad at what we do, even if we’ve been doing it forever?

It’s hard to judge your own progress

Whether you realize it or not, you’re a better writer now than when you started. Even without formal training, writers learn how to write better – through reading, through watching and playing and doing – and yes, through the critiques and suggestions of others.

But it’s hard to notice you’re improving. You have a very limited perspective on your skill level. As your writing improves, it just seems like the same old writing to you – because better writing has gradually become your norm. Without anyone telling you how different your writing is now than it used to be, it’s easy to think, “Well, I haven’t made much progress, so what’s the point?”

This is why rereading your previous work – as much as it might make you cringe – is, in my opinion, an essential part of growing as a writer. Look back at where you’ve been. You may not be as good of a writer as your favorite author seems to be, but you’ve definitely moved at least a few steps up from that weird blog post you wrote back in high school.

We come to expect negative criticism

Many people don’t know how to give constructive criticism. At least, I didn’t, back in college when I marked up my roommate’s English paper with red pen (sorry, Olivia). When they’re told to critique someone’s writing, many people assume that means they have a free pass to be overly critical – and not necessarily in a kind and/or helpful way.

So when people do come around that know how to critique properly, we unknowingly jump to the conclusion that they’re out to try and bring us down. About a year ago, I submitted something for publication. When the editor came back basically suggesting I rewrite the entire article, I’ll admit it, I was kind of mad. I didn’t understand why they were being so mean to my starving artist heart.

Criticism is an important component of growth. In the real world – most of the time – those who professionally give feedback on your work aren’t doing it in the form of a personal attack. So you can’t approach every writing assignment afraid you’re going to fail. You might, and probably will at some point, fail. But that’s part of this complicated game we’re all playing. We try. We fail. We learn, and we keep learning until we stop making the same mistakes. Then we make new ones. And so on.

We’re told it’s bad to be proud of our accomplishments

I used to be embarrassed every time a teacher made a good example out of my essays in school. I know I’m not the only one. For one thing, I never understood why they were singling ME out. I just wrote a thing because they told me to – what’s the big deal? And for another, especially in that two years of hell sometimes referred to as Middle School, being singled out for being good in school – at least, back in the day – was SO NOT COOL. Hello – my reputation is at stake here. Leave me alone.

I can’t say for sure when all this stopped being embarrassing, but eventually somewhere along the way someone taught me it’s not a crime to be good at something – and share that something with the world. I’m not embarrassed to share my articles on Facebook or wherever – if I were, honestly, I wouldn’t have learned to be brave enough to pitch my ideas to TOTAL STRANGERS. GASP.

Even if you’re not at all confident about what you’re publishing – act like you are. Promote it like it’s the best thing anyone has ever written. The more confident you pretend to be, the easier it gets to actually believe in your ability to do something well. Who really cares what anyone else thinks?

You are good – as good as you can be, right now. Just because you’re not 100 percent sold on what you’ve just written doesn’t mean someone else won’t be. You are, and always will be, your harshest critic. Don’t let that hold you back. Strive to improve – but be proud of how far you’ve come, and where you stand now.

4 TED Talks That Will Inspire You to Write Again

Writing is a job. You are responsible for creating your own career, whether you like it or not. That’s a lot of responsibility – and it’s scary.

Dec 11, 2016Dec 15, 2016 Meg Dowell1 Comment

This is for the writers who hoped they could walk away and come back – but haven’t yet. Those who want to return to their first love – those who are determined to do whatever it takes to write again.

1. The linguistic psychology of writing

A little bit of psychology, linguistics and history come together in an effort to explore how what we write and the words we use reflect the way we think and behave. The things you write, whether you know it or not, are an honest representation of who you are and what you have experienced. Use your words to bring out the best in you, and in others.

2. Questioning the procrastination process

We all procrastinate now and then – some of us more than others. There’s something different about those of us who put things off until the last possible second, and it all happens in the brain. Understanding why procrastination happens – and how to deal with it in your creative and/or professional life – will help you to gain more control over your writing process.

3. A slave to your comfort zone

Writing is a job. You are responsible for creating your own career, whether you like it or not. That’s a lot of responsibility – and it’s scary. When you constantly say ‘no’ to every difficult thing you encounter, you are proving to all your fears that you don’t deserve to leave the Comfort Zone within which you feel safe. A career in writing is not safe. Neither is hiding from the things you are afraid of.

4. Overcoming the weight of skyrocketing expectations

If you love writing, you’re going to have to figure out how writing fits into your existence. When it is a part of you, you’re going to have to do it – whether you’ve achieved great things and are afraid to disappoint your future readers, or you’re struggling to make it and don’t know whether you should keep trying or quit altogether.

I don’t know where you are in your career, what you do for a living or what you wish you could be doing instead. But I know you want to be a writer, you want to get back to writing or you want to write something different than what you’re writing now. So do it. Write something. Why not? Why not now?