Once again, I read Buck Daruma’s journal, and he makes me see myself.
So here’s a promise I make myself — every day, starting today, I will write. Not email, not blog entries, not stuff that has to be good or that has to be for publishing.
Just write. Just fucking write.
I need to do it. I’ve stopped writing completely. The last thing I finished was my Bad Santa story, and before that, almost nothing for months. I stop when I don’t have ideas that are good enough, when I don’t feel completely inspired.
I keep waiting for a bolt of of the blue, and it’s not coming. I just need to get down and get my hands dirty.
So. Every day. Even if it’s thrown away. Even if it’s only a paragraph. Even if it’s crap and I hate it.
I must do it. I must.