Okay. So, continuing with a few posts about writing and such, here's one that I get nearly every time I speak before students at high school and colleges; one that I see posted on every writers' discussion site on the internet.
It's this: I really, really want to be a writer. I just love everything about it and I just want to be a writer, like, sooooo much!.
Long answer. First off, "being" a writer is not a lifestyle that you can simply choose. It's kind of like leprosy, freckles, and sexual orientation. Believe me, if it were a matter of choice, I'd be on the first sled to Alaska and track down that minister whose congregation could "pray the write" out of me.
Who the hell "wants" to "be" a writer? It's like gravity, and there's not a good goddamned thing you can do to stop it. I certainly can't offer advice on how to reduce the pull of the earth on you.
Wait. Maybe I can.
Eat more fiber.
I honestly believe I do not like the "being" part. The consequence to what I do, just because I was born that way.
But, if you must... if you've convinced yourself that you can will "being," and you really want to give it a shot, then here's how I "be" a writer:
Drew's Day -- Saturday, June 20:
[do not try this at home]
Oh... and this is exactly why I don't TWITTER. My life is colossally boring...
1. Wake up when it's still dark outside. Usually between the hours of 3 and 5 AM. Do some push-ups and sit-ups to get the blood going to the brain.
2. Turn on your computer. While it's booting up and the old WiFi is getting juiced, stumble downstairs and pour a very large cup of coffee. It is essential that the coffee is not bastardized in any manner by cream or sugar.
3. Come back upstairs. Email is first. Delete them all without opening them, unless they're from a very short list of people who don't consummately despise you. Answer those few emails. (Later in the day, expect to get emails beginning with phrases like what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-answering-email-at-three-in-the-morning?)
4. Read The New York Times online.
5. Look at Facebook and silently curse the people whose Twitter tweets automatically post as Facebook status because you can't understand what the fuck they're t@lking @bout.
6. Write for an hour or so. Or more. Refill coffee as needed. (This is why I fucking hate myself. I swore I'd take some time off after finishing my last novel a few weeks ago. But... no. And I'm fucking impossible to live with when I'm writing. I fully predict my wife and kids are going to murder me in my sleep before August.)
7. Go outside and feed the horses. Then go running in the hills for 5 miles with a partially-healed broken foot that makes a sound like a Coke bottle under a tractor tire as you go.
Gee. isn't being a writer fun?
8. If the coffee is still warm... no... even if it isn't, pour another cup when you come back. Go back upstairs and write for a couple more hours. Wallow in self-contempt.
And that's all before noon.