How Many Nights
I was going to try and make this one of those cute little poems I toss out from time to time, the ones where I make some point that is only important to me and, hopefully, to anyone who knows what it’s like to write. Instead, I will just ask the question.
How much time do you devote to your craft? How much of the only thing in life you can’t get more of are you willing to spend on writing? Ten minutes a day? An hour? Six or twelve hours? How much?
Do you wake with the desire to make the perfect story, be it prose, poetry or song? Or maybe the perfect joke? It’s all writing. Everything I’ve just said is writing. How much of your time are willing to spend to make the story perfect? To make the reader understand exactly what you are trying to tell them?
God made you a writer. You can remember the exact moment you knew that was going to be the thing that dominated the rest of your life. It is your gift. Your curse. How much of your time do you spend on it?
We are writers. We are the only ones in the world who can hear someone utter the words.
I would do this for free.
Because, of course, all most all of us are doing this for free.
It’s a calling.
It’s a gift.
It’s a curse.
And we love it.