In order to get ahead as a writer you need to work. Obvious I know, but much more important than it sounds. Magic is not in my finger-tips. It just isn’t there and not much walking around is going to help that. My back-side must be in a chair, the words need to come out of the mind, travel down the arms and hammer away on the keys and then I need to look at them and rewrite them once again.
“There is no good writing, except re-writing.”
One of my coworkers said his professor in university said that and it’s true. Ray Bradberry believes in writing with quickness, to avoid the internal narrator, to say what might be the best, fastest, way to get the words out-but even he edits and retypes. Sure the days of the typewriter are mostly gone (I still have three and wish I could use them, but hey they are noisier than my Neo typing pad), but we still print and paint the pages with pen and then rework the text do we not people? Yes, or at least yes I hope you do. Because it is human to make mistakes. Especially in the act of communication.
I was talking about progress wasn’t I, oh yes, well I am do the work and even a page or two is encouraging. I need to see motion or I will not keep up the fight. Tangible progress is that I can see in some form. Downloading the text to the computer (as I said I use a typing pad) is progress. I am saving files and that also means progress.
Posting blog articles, getting my video journal taped, creating book covers for potential future novels, tracking down the pictures of a sticker book I took pictures of this past summer, all is progress because when the wheels are turning it means I am going somewhere useful.
Don’t stand still. Go and do, you’ll feel better even with a little done. People use to see progress when the page hit the desk, computers often make the words fly up into the ether. Print it, kill some trees and free your words. Then use ink and change them, make them better. Say the right things at the right times, and love it all. For if you can do it with love it does matter.
I can feel a bruise on my left side of my head. You know it tells me? That I was doing something and got a bump. When I wake up in the morning and feel my hands a little sore from typing it tells me I was actually working at it.
May you write your dream, so that your dream may live.
Keep writing, please, I beg it of you.