Writing is the reward.
It’s not getting your heart ripped out at workshop.
It’s not having an empty audience at your reading
It’s not seeing your name in print.
It’s not telling a girl at the bar you finished a novel.
It’s not reading your book’s review.
It’s not winning the Pulitzer Prize.
Writing is so much more.
It’s the willpower to tackle the next sentence
It’s the sense of accomplishment when you finish a piece
It’s learning from your previous draft’s mistakes
It’s the goosebumps you get after you type a line
It’s the smile when an ending clicks
All this is for you, and you alone.
Your stories
Your imagination
Your life
Your personal victory.
The longer you remember that
the longer your fire will glow.
Writing is your reward.
[…] No, nobody is forcing me to do this. I like to write, so that’s what I do. But this doesn’t make me a “writer”. That’s a word my Aunt uses at Thanksgiving to talk about the novel she’s worked on for ten years. To me those are just six, ego boosting letters, that give other people permission to be a dick at a workshop. I don’t need anyone’s permission. Honestly, I don’t give a fuck if you read this or not. To me, the act of writing is it’s own reward. […]
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