"Oh, Jane, that partial book draft you sent me to read, so sweet. How long have you been working on this story? Years, you say? Dear, that's a lovely pastime, but it'll never pay the bills. I told you to marry well. You ignored me, and married that deadbeat. You need a real job, as you're now my least favorite relative, and I'm leaving nothing to you in my will."
Friends. Your bestie, Carol.
"Wow, you've been writing? I didn't know that. What a secret you've been keeping, for, what did you say? Years? Uh-huh. Listen, I know a guy who can get you a discounted rate on a course to sell real estate. Now, there's some big earning potential. Great story though. Read it to your future kids sometime, if you can afford to have any, that is."
Colleagues.
You work buddy, Bob.
"Cool! A whole manuscript! Oh, an unfinished book. Right. Gotcha. When will it be done? You don't know. Right. Hey, listen, my wife is having a Tupperware party where you can become one of her sellers and make millions! Text me with your RSVP. And listen, great job on that, whatever it is book thing. Sounds great. Great conversation starter at my wife's Tupperware party. Don't forget the RSVP!"
~~~
It's not that they don't love you or like you or even tolerate you, as long as you do what is expected in an average life, what they themselves can only do.
Deep down, they know you'll never finish that manuscript because nobody they know tries that silly game and wins. They'll smile and nod, and gently guide you into being anything but a writer because success is only defined as getting quick cash, and lots of it, and they know you're never going to get any moolah being a writer. They'll probably pat you gently on your shoulder, too, and quickly walk away exhaling deeply, thankful they aren't you with that silly pipe dream.
Firstly, who ever achieved greatness accepting the average, the mundane, the predicted?
Secondly, why should others, who lack courage, stop you from having some?
Along that naysayer belief then,
- Ernest Hemingway would have died a poor deep sea fisherman.
- Truman Capote would have retired as a copyboy for The New Yorker magazine.
- Agatha Christie would have been a bored housewife.
The Reality: Something is giving you this itch to write. The idea haunts you every day, and that itch, that haunting, will not subside. Maybe it's the universe, far above, far greater than those earthly naysayers, trying to tell you something.
The Key: It will take all the courage you can muster to finish that book, but finish it, you must. You know it. I know it. It will be the only way to shut up those nagging, "WRITE!" voices inside your head.
HOMEWORK: STOP telling people about your story. STOP talking. START WRITING. Materialize in a book what has breathed inside your mind for such a long time.
- Keep your eyes on the page.
- Keep your ears shut to that naysayer world.
- Focus on your storyline, writing out one scene card after another.
- And slap down ALL the words needed to finish that draft.
Courage. Fortitude. Discipline. Confidence to go it alone until the piece is done.
It's far more important to listen to the universe. There's an unbelievable future waiting for you that will NEVER be waiting for those naysayers, and it lies on that blank page, looking up eagerly at YOU.
Question: Now, look ME straight in the eye, and answer me this:
Do you have what it takes to go for greatness?
No comments:
Post a Comment