No End of Ideas.


I've got no end of ideas of late, but I'm finding it harder than ever to write.

Perhaps it is the endless waiting game of writing itself. The terrible and joyful pushing you do with your mind as you assert your will over your apathy.

Or maybe it's the lack of glamour, because you know there's nothing more camera worthy than typing in a robe with bedhead and tired eyes.

I just can't give it up. And maybe that's how I know who I am.

Not sales or awards or contest wins but the doggedness of being a writer.

So this is my advice to anyone just starting, in the middle or the end of their writing - don't stop being you.

No matter what others view as success. No matter if you can't live off of your stories or if you have two vacation homes.

Remember why you started in the first place and hold it close. No one will ever care as much about it as you. Don't expect them to. As long as you do - it doesn't really matter.

I've gotta go.

My freak flag needs to fly.


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