
The Fundamental Secret to Finding Time to Write
Hey, you. Yes, you—the one with the storied dreams and the demanding imagination. You need to TAKE the time to write. I’m sorry to say this, but that time will never materialize on its own.
Hey, you. Yes, you—the one with the storied dreams and the demanding imagination. You need to TAKE the time to write. I’m sorry to say this, but that time will never materialize on its own.
A funny thing happens when you move.
You start out carefully. Each glass is conscientiously wrapped in six pages of newspaper. Each collectible is cushioned and boxed as if interred, and each box Sharpied with item, location, and name. Then a few days into this, something strange happens: you realize it doesn’t matter.
To put it another way, when you’re running out of time, you no longer have the luxury of faffing around. That’s when you really get down to business.
See if these sound familiar:
A hand passed through my hair.
A foot slid past the puddle.
Her eyes flew across the kitchen.
Each of these shares the same problem: a severed body part stole the lead.
I’ve tackled why we write before. Having an answer to that question is crucial, but it’s only the first question. The second is just as important: why should you keep writing?
On those days when we lose writing contests and can’t finish our stories and forget why we were writing the darn things in the first place, we need more than the reason why we chose to write. We need straight-up cussed orneriness.
Hey, you. Yes, you—the one with the ink-stained dreams and itchy fingers. I have a message for you from the future: don’t stop writing.
The future also wants to talk about a few scary things today. You have been warned.