In all the worlds in all the universe, one question echoes louder above the rest in the hearts and minds of avid creators looking for their place in the cosmos: how exactly does somebody become a writer?
The answer is far simpler and more complex than most people imagine. Here’s how:
You make a pact with yourself in the deep quiet of the night — one that you know you will never break.
You pour your heart and soul into a page, a chapter, a book, a series.
You fall in love with every word.
You read.
You question your sanity and the sanity of those around you who support you.
You question everything.
You doubt.
—
Occasionally, you fail.
And then, you begin again.
—
You write.
You etch words onto the walls of your heart, your ribcage and your skull
In the middle of the night, you burn.
You itch to be writing again. You’d give it all up to be sat in front of the screen again, watching the words flow.
—-
You laugh at your own jokes because you suspect that nobody else will.
You wince at your own words because you believe that everybody else is.
You are harder on yourself than anyone else before
You question everything.
You edit.
—
You write.
You research and fall into entire universes of colourful patterns.
—
Sometimes, you just have fun with it.
Occasionally, you throw up onto the page, wipe your mouth with a towel, and stare in horror at what has become.
—
Often, you sacrifice.
—
You write.
And, sometimes, your worlds become real enough to touch.
You live and breathe in the chapters.
You reach out into the void.
Finally, you are not alone.
—
You write.
And writing is truly all it takes to be a writer.
POST COMMENT