1) I like finding something I wrote and thinking this is what I wanna read.
2) I like reading something someone else wrote and thinking, “All I wanna do is read this.”
3) I like feeling like I’m a part of something that is growing and changing and deciding what parts of that I want to participate in.
4) I like the community. It’s so nice that people care enough to have opinions that I can disagree with. :)
5) Even though I don’t have a job that has much to do with my writing life, I like having a life outside of that job to put my energy and efforts into. I am confused by people that don’t have an endeavor outside of their job.
6) I like not having a job that has nothing to do with my writing. This is a lie I’ve told myself so many times, I believe it.
“…do you know what you will be asked when you die? But let me tell you first what you won’t be asked. You won’t be asked if you were working on a wonderful, moving piece of writing when you died. You won’t be asked if it was long or short, sad or funny, published or unpublished. You won’t be asked if you were in good or bad form while you were working on it. You won’t even be asked if you had known your time would be up when it was finished. . . I’m so sure you’ll get asked only two questions. Were most of your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out? If only you knew how easy it would be for you to say yes to both questions.”
– Salinger
If you’re single, if you’re writing a novel and you’re single, it’s your girl, it’s the thing you come home to every night that you work on no matter how you feel because you know that in the end it’ll put you in a good mood.
Since deciding to take writing seriously and dedicating myself to my craft, I’ve had a 100% acceptance rate. Granted, that only accounts for one acceptance but it was to the lit journal that got me re-interested in writing, so I’ve decided to feel cocky about it as long as it lasts.
On a more general (and realistic) note, almost everyone imagines or wishes that they could be a writer, but relatively few take the plunge. Even though the reality of the writing life is miles away from the glamour and ease that the average person imagines it to be, we’re still the envy of the misinformed.
Also, I bet there are a lot more professional writing awards than there are awards in all the major professional sports combined.
I love getting turned on to new writers all the time, writers who make me think, “Damn, I want to write like that,” and writers who make me think, “Damn, I will never write like that,” and writers who make me think, “Damn.” I love reading what I wrote and feeling like I made something happen. I love writing, every day. It never gets old. It never feels like a chore. I love writing more now than I ever have.
everything from kylie minogue songs to edith wharton to stained scraps of cloth are inspiring parts of my day, because they move to me to write. i get to read things that i love beyond comprehension and know that even if i never do anything that comes close to those beloved writings, i get to be in conversation with them.
Did I read some essay about you sleeping with your cleaning lady? Did she have genital warts or something? And like you were worried if you had sex with her you wouldn’t get the place cleaned in time. I’m getting deja vue or however you spell that.
Out of the seven or eight-hundred thousand hours that each of us are given (if we’re lucky), someone has spent a minute or an hour or more than one of each of those reading something you’ve written. That always blows me away.
I’m kind of fired up about the badbadbad summer tour. It seems like off-trail adventures in live lit are more doable now than ever. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be appearing in a crazy range of unusual venues, from a solo show at a hair salon/gallery on a First Friday to a mega multi-artist jam at a massive room in NYC. Then there’s the cool indie bookshops, the raucous DIY reading series, the intimate house parties. I expect to meet inspiring fellow writers and artists and art lovers I never would have met otherwise, and I may even sell some books. To have this opportunity feels like a gift. Howz that for writing-life optimism?
There’s tons of sex, dough, worldly power, whatever dope you like, interesting and corporeally healthy immortality, and lasagna and, for dessert and between meals, black licorice – and all consequence-free – in “the writing life”.
Writing makes me feel like I am a real person, not just a hamster on a hamster wheel. Is that how you spell hamster? It looks really weird written out.
1.) a portion of my insanity suddenly feels socially acceptable
2.) you get to laugh at yourself the moment you realize just how long you’ve been trying to come up with “optimistic statements about the writing life.”
1.) a portion of my insanity suddenly feels socially acceptable
2.) you get to laugh at yourself the moment you realize just how long you’ve been trying to come up with “optimistic statements about the writing life.”
Many public readings serve beer.
“Everything is absurd when one thinks of death.” – Bernhard
So writing isn’t any more futile than anything else. That’s kind of positive, right?
Ha. My first response to your statement was, I would like a beer. For reals.
1) I like finding something I wrote and thinking this is what I wanna read.
2) I like reading something someone else wrote and thinking, “All I wanna do is read this.”
3) I like feeling like I’m a part of something that is growing and changing and deciding what parts of that I want to participate in.
4) I like the community. It’s so nice that people care enough to have opinions that I can disagree with. :)
5) Even though I don’t have a job that has much to do with my writing life, I like having a life outside of that job to put my energy and efforts into. I am confused by people that don’t have an endeavor outside of their job.
6) I like not having a job that has nothing to do with my writing. This is a lie I’ve told myself so many times, I believe it.
you don’t get to decide
writing ‘problems’ are good problems, and also not-problems.
I would like a patron.
i wrote two poems yesterday.
Writing my friend’s statement of intent essay for his law school application got me a free meal at Panera Bread.
I have learned a lot about people by having them read my fiction and the various ways they react to it.
I helped a frat win some Homecoming competition at Georgia Tech by writing a script for their performance in twenty minutes while drunk.
My friend started a great hardcore band based on my first novel.
A lot of my friends read my writing and then they become a little more like me.
I’m pretty sure me mentioning I was a writer helped me sleep with my cleaning lady.
“…do you know what you will be asked when you die? But let me tell you first what you won’t be asked. You won’t be asked if you were working on a wonderful, moving piece of writing when you died. You won’t be asked if it was long or short, sad or funny, published or unpublished. You won’t be asked if you were in good or bad form while you were working on it. You won’t even be asked if you had known your time would be up when it was finished. . . I’m so sure you’ll get asked only two questions. Were most of your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out? If only you knew how easy it would be for you to say yes to both questions.”
– Salinger
If you’re single, if you’re writing a novel and you’re single, it’s your girl, it’s the thing you come home to every night that you work on no matter how you feel because you know that in the end it’ll put you in a good mood.
imagine the non-writing life
Since deciding to take writing seriously and dedicating myself to my craft, I’ve had a 100% acceptance rate. Granted, that only accounts for one acceptance but it was to the lit journal that got me re-interested in writing, so I’ve decided to feel cocky about it as long as it lasts.
On a more general (and realistic) note, almost everyone imagines or wishes that they could be a writer, but relatively few take the plunge. Even though the reality of the writing life is miles away from the glamour and ease that the average person imagines it to be, we’re still the envy of the misinformed.
Also, I bet there are a lot more professional writing awards than there are awards in all the major professional sports combined.
also, i’m reading a really amazing poem by someone in my workshop.
I love getting turned on to new writers all the time, writers who make me think, “Damn, I want to write like that,” and writers who make me think, “Damn, I will never write like that,” and writers who make me think, “Damn.” I love reading what I wrote and feeling like I made something happen. I love writing, every day. It never gets old. It never feels like a chore. I love writing more now than I ever have.
See also: “Life’s a bitch and then you die” – Nas
What hardocre band?
A reason, the reason, reason that trumps all reason, for not stopping your clock.
http://neverbreakdown.com/nocourage
Were you drunk? Were they sonnets?
Grad school?
i was sober and i was trying to write poems like i was david byrne trying to write a book about butt disease
everything from kylie minogue songs to edith wharton to stained scraps of cloth are inspiring parts of my day, because they move to me to write. i get to read things that i love beyond comprehension and know that even if i never do anything that comes close to those beloved writings, i get to be in conversation with them.
Did I read some essay about you sleeping with your cleaning lady? Did she have genital warts or something? And like you were worried if you had sex with her you wouldn’t get the place cleaned in time. I’m getting deja vue or however you spell that.
Yeah dude. I came on her face and won a book and everything.
http://wewhoareabouttodie.com/2011/02/09/contest-free-book-a-man-of-glass-all-the-ways-we-have-failed/#comment-4418
Ok, thanks. Means I still have an excellent memory and I just re-read it and laughed a bit and that set off some dopamine, so cool.
Hey, it beats sulfur mining.
That’s another optimistic thing about writing! “Making people laugh.”
And my pleasure!
you make lots of cool friends if you are nice
this is clearly not possible in any other lifestyle
+1
i don’t like writing much. i just feel shitty if I don’t do it every day.
Reading.
Out of the seven or eight-hundred thousand hours that each of us are given (if we’re lucky), someone has spent a minute or an hour or more than one of each of those reading something you’ve written. That always blows me away.
It is my favorite way to waste time. It gives me a certain kind of porpoise.
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a good reason to be alone
az does the chorus, not nas…
sonned!
I’m kind of fired up about the badbadbad summer tour. It seems like off-trail adventures in live lit are more doable now than ever. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be appearing in a crazy range of unusual venues, from a solo show at a hair salon/gallery on a First Friday to a mega multi-artist jam at a massive room in NYC. Then there’s the cool indie bookshops, the raucous DIY reading series, the intimate house parties. I expect to meet inspiring fellow writers and artists and art lovers I never would have met otherwise, and I may even sell some books. To have this opportunity feels like a gift. Howz that for writing-life optimism?
we who are a butt to die
ha ha
you just won the ‘meta-deprecation of the thread’ award
non-pro, though
this thread is weirdly depressing
There’s tons of sex, dough, worldly power, whatever dope you like, interesting and corporeally healthy immortality, and lasagna and, for dessert and between meals, black licorice – and all consequence-free – in “the writing life”.
I love to write.
Cultural cache. A reason to Twitter. Excuses to yourself to put off everything else. Peo
Writing makes me feel like I am a real person, not just a hamster on a hamster wheel. Is that how you spell hamster? It looks really weird written out.
I wrote something I find very beautiful today and I’m probably going to keep it to myself.
1.) a portion of my insanity suddenly feels socially acceptable
2.) you get to laugh at yourself the moment you realize just how long you’ve been trying to come up with “optimistic statements about the writing life.”
1.) a portion of my insanity suddenly feels socially acceptable
2.) you get to laugh at yourself the moment you realize just how long you’ve been trying to come up with “optimistic statements about the writing life.”
mediating with imaginary characters lets me see the multiverse