In honor of National Dog Day, here’s a video of my sister’s dog struggling to get inside.
I’m actually happy you asked this on Anon, because I’m going to ask you a few very HARD questions.
You see, any other writing blog would probably point you at many of the dozen times they’ve answered questions like:
But that is not what your question is really about, isn’t it? No. There is a little something-something to your question that attracted my attention. And this is the part where the HARD (and rather mean) questions come in.
I don’t give a flying fuck who it was, but someone — at some point in your life — told you that writing was a waste of time. Your father, your mother, your school counselor, the pretty girl you met at that one party. I don’t care who it was, but their shitty personality planted the seed of doubt in the garden of your mind. And whoa are the weeds showing.
Those are not the hard questions. These are:
If you’re expecting to put words on the paper and make a masterpiece on the first draft then I am going to give you a reality check. That doesn’t happen. The first draft of everything is shit. It’s going to be crap, the real test comes in revising the story— cleaning it, polishing it, and then you will truly see the beauty in it.
Is it hard? Yeah. But so is everything in life.
I love telling stories. I know that no one else in the world can tell my stories, and that someone out there will be going through a hard time in their life— and that only my words will get them through it.
The garden of your mind is full of weeds, Anon. Doubt has very thick roots— but if you have the courage you can rip it out.
You’re going to die someday, Anon. Your minutes are counted. Spend them doing the things you love. The things you enjoy. It’s your life, and you don’t have to make anyone else happy but yourself.
Remove the doubt from the garden of your mind, and please let the flowers grow.