1666 words per day. Every day. For 30 days.
- 894 words per day. Half the expected output. But the month isn’t over yet.
Podcast or a YouTube channel.
- It was hard enough writing the 20K words that I did. And a YouTube channel? What was I thinking?
Posting an inspirational phrase on the mirror every day
- Done. And my wife and daughter got in on the act, too. My son just drew pictures on the mirror, but that was okay, too. And they provided a good deal of energy to write when I really didn’t feel like it.
Posting an inspirational image or message on Facebook every day
- Stopped this past weekend. I started to feel self conscious about it.
Would I ever do this again?
- Every year from now on.
What are my thoughts on the process?
- Writing isn’t all about getting published. It’s about finishing what you started.
- I don’t know how many people will read my book after I finish writing it, but I know exactly how many people will read it if I don’t.
- You don’t have to feel like writing to write. Just write. The feeling part comes later.
- Talking about writing is part of writing.
- Remember at some point you have to shut up and write.
- Reading is part of writing.
- You don’t have time for bad books.
- Remember at some point you have to put the book down and write.
- Set fire to your television set.
- Type on a computer with a great keyboard and a shitty internet connection.
- Don’t get hung up on one process, but it’s important to have one.
- I proved to myself that I can do it only if I want to do it.
- Creating excuses only proves I don’t want to do it.
- I need to be honest with myself about what I can do and why I am making excuses.
- Believing in yourself is required to see it through to the end
- Open mic afternoons are very, very important. If you have the courage to read your work in front of a group of strangers, you have the courage to write another page. And then another.
- I cannot “wing it” because shiny things and Netflix distract me.
- Speaking of ‘wings’, my internal editor should shut their pie hole until I’m done, and then they can have fun putting me down. Until then, it stays safely locked up in a thimble. For the record, my internal editor is a crew cut, cigar chomping, cybergoth steampunk fairy about the size of my thumb. Another writer plucked its wings years ago like a sadistic child would tear the wings from a fly. Since then the little prick has gotten hold of a backpack with gasoline powered wings so it can fly. It smells like tobacco and old cars whenever my editor shows up.
- Never, ever give up