I'm supposed to be writing now.
When I told a friend of mine about my three business ideas, he asked, "What about the writing?"
I shared this with someone else who asked what's holding me back from writing. He proceeded to tell me that if writing is my gift, I have an obligation to share it with the world.
I mentioned to another friend the fear that holds me back from writing, and his response was, "That's bullshit. Your abilities are not up for debate."
Today was a rainy day, and it was perfect for sitting in my pajamas with some coffee or wine and exploring the world of my characters and what I want to say about life. It was interrupted by some rollerskating and quick outlet shopping, but I did manage to get back into the pjs.
I'm supposed to be writing now.
I tried. I started putting together a short story called "Spanish Tortilla", but the words argued that they should be an essay instead of a short story, and I just couldn't handle the conflict. Then I looked around "La Isla Encontrada" for some new characters. I couldn't find anyone new, and the regulars were all busy. Then I figured I could at least work on some of the business ideas, but my head isn't in a logical place right now.
I'm supposed to be writing now.
I've sent some emails and chatted via instant message with the Spaniard. I've done three loads of laundry, washed the dishes, and put together what will probably be the most interesting lunch my co-workers will ever see.
I'm supposed to be writing now.
Will I ever be able to make it as a professional?
When I told a friend of mine about my three business ideas, he asked, "What about the writing?"
I shared this with someone else who asked what's holding me back from writing. He proceeded to tell me that if writing is my gift, I have an obligation to share it with the world.
I mentioned to another friend the fear that holds me back from writing, and his response was, "That's bullshit. Your abilities are not up for debate."
Today was a rainy day, and it was perfect for sitting in my pajamas with some coffee or wine and exploring the world of my characters and what I want to say about life. It was interrupted by some rollerskating and quick outlet shopping, but I did manage to get back into the pjs.
I'm supposed to be writing now.
I tried. I started putting together a short story called "Spanish Tortilla", but the words argued that they should be an essay instead of a short story, and I just couldn't handle the conflict. Then I looked around "La Isla Encontrada" for some new characters. I couldn't find anyone new, and the regulars were all busy. Then I figured I could at least work on some of the business ideas, but my head isn't in a logical place right now.
I'm supposed to be writing now.
I've sent some emails and chatted via instant message with the Spaniard. I've done three loads of laundry, washed the dishes, and put together what will probably be the most interesting lunch my co-workers will ever see.
I'm supposed to be writing now.
Will I ever be able to make it as a professional?
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