Aside from Chuck Palahniuk’s excellent writing advice he
dispensed to me in a handwritten letter: ‘Never
be afraid to look like an asshole,’ the best
advice to follow is to write. The following rules apply, it states you must do your work, you must apply yourself and if you do,
whether you want to or not or feel you have nothing to say, every word
counts. Every. Single. One.
If you ever question yourself (or others about yourself) whether or not you are a
writer or an artist, you most likely are.
Steven Pressfield, in his amazing book The War of Art says
this: The counterfeit innovator is wildly self-confident. The real ones are scared to death. (Btw, I mention this book as suggested
reading for ALL creatives. It’s an important
book and when in doubt or creative crisis should be referred to.)
After I finished my last short story, I was nervous. I’ve been so overwhelmed with ideas and
thoughts and characters and stories that they were coming faster than I could
get them down on paper. I am certain, in
the flurry to record everything; I missed a few bits and pieces. Nevertheless, I have been truly enjoying the
process and the influx of fiction invading my noodle and taking up all of my
time. It’s certainly better than wasting
precious time on things that dull or spirit and with people who try and break
it. This writing adventure has centered
me and caused me to re-evaluate a few things and to take better notice of what
matters. For me, it’s staying true to
myself and listening actively and intently to the songs of others. And by others, I mean my friends, friends like
Joseph Whistle, little Charlie Roop, Mr. Wincey, Harriet Weeks and Augustus
Cade. I write for them. And for me. But, the key is to write. There were days I wrote one sentence, one paragraph,
one word. Eventually, I amassed a whole
story.
Just write. What’s
in you. Every day. One word at a time.
I can’t wait to see where ‘Large-Hearted’ takes me.
And the weekend is once again upon us. Once I make it through this day, I plan to
get caught up on sleep from the mind-numbing insomnia I suffered for days on
end. Some of which could be blamed on
marathoning ‘Game of Thrones’ to catch up to the devastating ‘Red Wedding’
episode everyone was freaking out about.
As discussed with others already, the cutting off of Jamie’s hand and
the bear scene were just as disturbing to me.
The wedding, while I knew would
be brutal still left me speechless, more-so he killing of Robb Stark’s pregnant
wife. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to
un-see that; that more than anything else terrified me. I also started reading The Book Thief by
Markus Zusak, a heavy ambitious book that has so far been good. I’m not very far into it but I can tell it’s
going to be profound. For something
uplifting, I have a Matt Mays show tomorrow evening that is now going indoors
because of Storm Andrea Whatshername. It’ll be my first show at the Cunard Center
believe it or not but I just look forward to having my ears filled with the
sounds of a White Falcon and a kick drum in my chest. Some people do yoga …
Happy Friday, amigos!
In propinquity,
Nic
