And I’ve moved the desk top down…
Now to attach it.
It’s not easy to admit when you’re afraid. Especially as a dude of a certain age because we’ve been taught our whole fucking lives that, essentially, fear is for pussies. And being a pussy is bad (but hey, guess what you’re supposed to chase your entire life…) and it was never a term of endearment growing up. Nowadays I have a vastly different take on a pussy’s strength and, sure, call me a pussy. It’s quite a compliment.
BUT, I’m getting slightly off track with the above. The topic is fear, and that’s what I face most days when I think about writing. I’ve been doing that thinking a lot in the last month or so, now that things are semi-calm again.
Let’s back up a bit, though. Towards the end of 2016 and throughout 2017, I came to an understanding that things weren’t right in my writing career. I’m not going into what those things were, but they put me into my tailspin and coupled with all the stress from trying to move, brought on a great big “fuck it” attitude. A seriously serious “fuck this shit” mindset that lasted from about September of 2016 to November of 2017. I wasn’t afraid of anything in 2017; I was just straight pissed off and last year, I probably didn’t top 5,000 total words… and a solid 3,500 of those were for a single episode of The Lift podcast, and those were written only because Dan Foytik of 9th Story Studios has superhuman patience and my undying respect for the quality of work he does and the passion he brings to the art of storytelling. How could I not say yes to that dude? Continue reading