Write.
I’ll tell you why you should start writing right now…
Me. That’s why.
I write. I write every day. I write a thousand words a day, unless I have to do some rewrites on a script because the producers of the film hate me and want to make my life hell.
They all hate me.
Listen, guys… gals, they, he, she, them, we, it, I don’t give a shit… I barely graduated high school. I’m not exaggerating. I got through with like a 1.5 GPA. Maybe a 1.8 because it was a 1.5 and they said if I didn’t go to this after school class and complete three entire subjects in two weeks I couldn’t graduate. My point is, you’re smarter than me. No question.
You’ve probably found several errors in the first paragraph. I don’t even know what that is or if I’ve already written a paragraph yet and I don’t even know where commas go. My vocabulary is fourth grade tops. Just read the first page of one of my books. You’ll see.
But people read my books.
If they only knew.
Here’s the strategy…
Write.
Write the book you want to read.
NOT the book you think will be the next Harry Potter, not the book you think will make you millions, not the book that is just like that other book you thought was good, but that you could do better.
You got an idea in your head for a story?
Just start writing it.
A thousand words takes about an hour.
1 hour per day x 65 days = novel
Remember this…
It will be shit.
More than likely, however, it will be better than my first pile.
My first pile was unreadable.
But as I wrote and wrote and wrote again, I began to recognize something.
I have a voice.
It’s mine and mine alone, all 1.8 GPA of it.
I started to like it.
And the more I wrote, the more I sounded like someone I was familiar with but had never met.
It was me. Me who had never gone to college. Maybe the only class I got an A in was PE… once. Me who had gathered all of these conversations, daydreams, faces, fears, loves, hates, cries, laughs, relationships, and never knew I was collecting them until they sprouted out of thin air onto paper.
Write a book you think there’s NO audience for.
I did.
There was an audience. Somehow. Probably got a 1.8 GPA just like me. But they’re MY audience.
No. Not mine.
The story's.
It oddly has nothing and everything to do with me.
Or you for that matter.
It’s not about me or you. It’s about the story.
Writing every day has taught me two things.
One, you get better.
Every time.
Two, there’s more to you than you might think.
There are worlds living inside of you that you never knew existed.
Put them into this world while you still can.
For everyone to see.
Don't fear the haters. There will be many. I promise.
No excuses.
No attachment to outcome.
No tomorrow.
Shut.
The.
Fuck.
Up.
And.
Write.
Damnit!
See there? You made me cuss.
