Do you know that feeling when you’re almost drowing in stuff that you want to take care of and everything you manage to do is clean the dishes? Hooray! That means I’m not the only one..
Thank you for the great advice!
Great article that gave me a new perspective on what writing is actually about. For all those who struggle with finding their own style and doubt that they could ever make it as a writer: it’s mostly about what you’re saying, not how you say it. Thanks a lot for the insight
There are two types of writers, Schopenhauer once observed, those who write because they have something they have to say and those who write for the sake of writing.
If you’re young and you think you want to be a writer, chances are you are already in the second camp. And all the advice you’ll get from other people about writing only compounds this terrible impulse.
Write all the time, they’ll tell you. Write for your college newspaper. Get an MFA. Go to writer’s groups. Send query letters to agents.
What do they never say? Go do interesting things.
I was lucky enough to actually get this advice. Combine this with the fact that I was too self-conscious to tell people that I wanted to be a writer, I became one in secret.
I’m not saying I’m great at it or anything, but I am a bestselling author at 26
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A great post worth reading! It really gets you thinking about being kind of a runaway person (hence my own blog name!) and how to deal with that.
I’m standing on a street corner in New York City eating a stuffed grape leaf. The desire is always to be somewhere else. Here is this perfectly good day: cloudless, dry and breezy, but I feel as if I’m watching the commercials in between my life: when will the show come back on? The desire has always been for a place, rather than myself, or the people that inhabit a place, to change me and improve me. Maybe something incredible will happen if I go here today. If I sit in this coffee shop, rather than that one. I think of a Greek island I haven’t been to in fifteen years, and wonder what it would take to get me there, and, briefly, what would happen once I got there.
Such is the weakness of those with wanderlust: it’s just a flicker of a thought, a few frames of a…
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