One of the most difficult things for me to find is the space I need to write. Sometimes it’s a headspace that I need to drift into or a physical space that allows me to stew in my own writer juices. Often times, it’s a digital space that is free from distractions. That last one is damn near impossible to achieve. Many of us use the same machines to do our day jobs as we do for our writing. Not everyone has the luxury of multiple laptops.
I have been going back and forth about buying a laptop solely for writing, something small with a good keyboard and serious battery life, but it’s really fucking hard to justify the expense when there are amazing books that were hammered out only using pen and paper. So in the meantime, I think I’ve found a happy medium. [click to continue…]
Sometimes you get tired of your own bullshit. The excuses, procrastination, and utter nonsense you distract yourself with instead of diving headlong into your passion. Steven Pressfield talks a lot about this in his book “The War of Art” and calls the insidious force Resistance. Procrastination and crisis have been the strongest forms of Resistance in my life. I’m either wasting the time god gave me on this earth or allowing chaos from my life to drain my energy.
The shot clock of my existence shows question marks across its digital display, so I can’t afford to be lazy or distracted anymore. Another great point that Pressfield makes in his book (seriously people, go buy a copy it’s life changing shit) is about Turning Pro. It’s the moment when you make a conscious decision to stop being an amateur with your passion and instead turn it into your calling. [click to continue…]
This month has been jam-packed with personal highs and lows. I flew to the West Coast for the first time in years (had an amazing trip), I hit 2 years of being in remission (which has its own conflicting set of emotions), and I’m still struggling with my recovery. Slowly, I’m beginning to recognize the long term effects of my fight with cancer both physically and mentally.
Then I came across unbelievable news in my Twitter feed. Robin Williams, a man I grew up watching on television and movies who always filled me with laughter, was dead. Depression had cruelly snatched away his talent from this world. I was at a red light when I read the news and started banging my steering wheel yelling “Fuck!” over and over again. People probably thought I was mental. My reaction surprised even me, but in my heart Robin Williams was one of the “good ones.” [click to continue…]