I've noticed something about writers.
Writers traverse the walkways of life like young pups in a park. We love living -- and follow the excitement and passions of life that are splashed about in the colors and textures around us. We sniff along tangents with tail wagging. We immerse ourselves in sensory moments. Those moments give us pungent, profound lungfuls of oxygen -- allowing us to breathe into the rich soil of experience from which to write. And, ironically, it's those same moments that keep us from writing.
True writers write. We are committed to having a relationship with our computer, sitting for hours at a time with fingers pattering one-way conversations on the keyboard. Yes, we writers find deep meaning in creating and walking in the worlds that we've created. When we're swooshed into our worlds, in an inexplicable level, we're pulled into the screen: the sounds, smells, sights of the tangible world around us fall away, and the energy of creating takes over in an addictive rush. (If you're a writer, you completely understand what I'm talking about.)
It's a dichotomy. There is a pull toward living passionately in the world. And there's a pull of passion to create.
In order to be who we're called to be, writers need accountability. We need a friend (or foe) telling us to keep at it. Without accountability, "writer" is only a name.
Accountability is part of writing. Make a date with yourself. In fact, make and keep a regular appointment in the calendar, just for writing on your key project. Put your tush in the chair. Meet that word count. If there's one thing that getting an MFA in fiction writing is teaching me, it's that the discipline of being held accountable is the foundational discipline of being a writer.
Thank God. Because accountability takes us to a new level.
Writing together,
Erin
Writers traverse the walkways of life like young pups in a park. We love living -- and follow the excitement and passions of life that are splashed about in the colors and textures around us. We sniff along tangents with tail wagging. We immerse ourselves in sensory moments. Those moments give us pungent, profound lungfuls of oxygen -- allowing us to breathe into the rich soil of experience from which to write. And, ironically, it's those same moments that keep us from writing.
True writers write. We are committed to having a relationship with our computer, sitting for hours at a time with fingers pattering one-way conversations on the keyboard. Yes, we writers find deep meaning in creating and walking in the worlds that we've created. When we're swooshed into our worlds, in an inexplicable level, we're pulled into the screen: the sounds, smells, sights of the tangible world around us fall away, and the energy of creating takes over in an addictive rush. (If you're a writer, you completely understand what I'm talking about.)
It's a dichotomy. There is a pull toward living passionately in the world. And there's a pull of passion to create.
In order to be who we're called to be, writers need accountability. We need a friend (or foe) telling us to keep at it. Without accountability, "writer" is only a name.
Accountability is part of writing. Make a date with yourself. In fact, make and keep a regular appointment in the calendar, just for writing on your key project. Put your tush in the chair. Meet that word count. If there's one thing that getting an MFA in fiction writing is teaching me, it's that the discipline of being held accountable is the foundational discipline of being a writer.
Thank God. Because accountability takes us to a new level.
Writing together,
Erin
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