A moment we all have
No, it isn’t time to switch to the flamethrower. In fact, stop burning those piles of papers. Don’t think about how happy you’d be if you just burned your desk right now.
Don’t be angry you haven’t made millions yet, or that you have writers block. Trust me, burning an abstract idea can be tough- I’ve tried.
You don’t write because you want to . You write because you have to. I’ve had this idea for years (specifically since the 5th grade).
Yet so, so far.
One day, I just sat down. I wrote in my Harry Potter journal. I wrote about a love lost, the beautiful glint of his brown eyes, his nerdy love of video games.
Love caused me to write.
Anger caused me to write.
Emotions, in general, force me to write.
I don’t always want to write. I need to write. If I don’t write, I can’t function. I can’t hold things in. It doesn’t matter who sees it, or if I ever see it again. The thing is, it needs to be out there.
You don’t get paid to breathe. You don’t get paid to drink water. You do it because you need to survive. Survival doesn’t come from a monetary gain- it comes from a biological, sometimes all encompassing need.
If you stop writing because you begin to think it isn’t worth it because my well-researched biography of Trotsky isn’t going to sell, throw that idea in the furnace. Go ahead. We all have our little mental furnaces where we burn stuff (especially us pyros).
Keep writing about how the drops glisten on the pine trees in the morning. Keep writing that mystery where no one knows who poisoned the leader of a radical faction by lacing a meatball with arsenic.
You’ll feel a lot better if you do. Just rid yourself of the ridiculous notion that you have a choice. As writers, we don’t have choices here. We need to do what our bodies tell us to.
Maybe your idea will make millions. Maybe it won’t.
If you don’t keep churning out ideas, you’ll never get anywhere.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.