One for the challenges of being a nonfiction writer is that you can’t tell half of your friends when you’ve finally gotten published. Chances are they did something stupid you spent several weeks of your time and talent judging them for it.
“But I don’t like writing!”
“Few people do, bud.”
The difference between being famous and being normal is that famous people have figured out how to market their mediocrity.
On the real.
I don’t feel like writing today.
I’m too tired to make this my problem.
I have no idea what he said, but it was a very lovely combination of words.
It is hard to call myself a confident writer when the success of a piece is often determined by how many people liked it. Perhaps brave. But definitely not confident.
Addicted maybe. Perhaps brave. But definitely not confident.
Will Work For the Money To Buy Food
Nine times out of ten, I love what I do. I truly do love my job. That one time comes on the first of every month when the rent is due, and I sit plagued by the unwavering belief that everyone else is off tossing hundred dollar bills from a second story balcony of a house they can afford to own while dancing to “Just Got Paid.”
And, like me, today wants to be special.