It’s an excuse to write without having everything figured out. Fear has no room in a writer’s head or hesitate fingers hovering over the keyboard.
You have a thought but no story. You an idea but no main charecter. I brainstorm on the blog occasionally to show you have to just start. Fuck the fear and uncertainty. Start anywhere and sow the shit together in place later in editing and rewrites.
Real talk. I’ve read enough books, articles and poetry and don’t give a fuck if you or anybody thinks it’s shit. I know it’s shit but I go with it and let it pour out of my mind into reality and now a days I enjoy turning shit into gold my dude.
Hot damn! What a time to be alive.
I lived long enough to get here. Writing is magical, thoughtful and amazing. I enjoy every bit of it. The humility and the surprises along the way. It’s worth being a fool or a miss spelled word or missing word here or several places. If by one word at a time I can get better at this shit then I was in January it’s worth the minor humilating moments.
I want to get good at this shit. That’s my goal. I want to get good my dude and I want to read the stories or poetry in my head before I lose them in a sea of other stories already capturing my attention.