What Makes Me Sick

CheneyOn Writing1 Comment

What makes me sick is the potential that I know I have and don’t use. It’s the time that I whittle away bullshitting with friends or crocheting more blankets that I really (probably) don’t need. Time in front of the television makes me sick, time away from my computer makes me sick, time NOT WRITING makes me sick.

This is an old story, a familiar sad song of mine. I sing it again and again for you, those who are probably so sick of hearing it but hear it from me anyway.

I’ll tell you, friends, it’s time to change the tune.

At this point I think that one of the reasons I don’t produce as much as I want to is that I am not held accountable to anyone. Writing is a solitary pasttime, a singular profession. There is no one at my back telling me to write, WRITE! KEEP WRITING! There is no one there to egg me on or encourage me or ask me how things are going so that I make sure I always have good news to tell them. Or any news, for that matter.

So, here.

In 2014 I will publish my first book.

Yes, I will. Because it’s gotten to the point where if I don’t do it, I probably never will. I’ve been saying it for years and nothing has happened. I’ve been saying it for years and all I have to show for it are a few hot messes of first drafts or abandoned drafts and I just can’t handle it anymore. I can’t handle not being what I want to be.

You know, some people decide that they want to lose weight and they transform their lives around the image of themselves as thinner – they change their diet, their exercise habits, even sometimes their hobbies or their friends if they are not helping along the path of getting what they want. They track progress in pounds lost and celebrate their goals with cheers from others because others can SEE their progress.

You’re going to see my progress, tracked in words written. You’re going to see my progress in drafts finished and next year, books published.

Here is where I mark my words and I want you readers to mark them, too.

In 2014 I will publish my first book.

There is no ifs, ands or buts. It’s happening. But it’s only happening with your support, my dear writerly friends. I need you on this. Let’s do it together.

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