Skip to main content

1000 Words Challenge: Day 6.

I've had a blank document open on my laptop for over an hour now. I've been browsing the internet, leaving the room, walking the dog, and looking at basketball stats for a new NBA article (my 1000 words yesterday went to another Cavs basketball article at Hashtag Basketball).

After finally starting to write, and completing the first paragraph, I managed to sidetrack myself for another 15 minutes. Even when I came back to write the previous sentence, I almost clicked to a new Chrome tab instead of pressing on into this sentence.

The point of this is that writing can be really hard. It seems like it would be easy - just write whatever is on your mind - but how often is what's on our mind a coherent thought? Rarely, right? Our thoughts zip around from the episode of Parks & Rec we watched yesterday to that dog we saw across the street to a video we saw on Facebook to oh man I just burped to I wonder if my Prime delivery is going to arrive today or tomorrow.

Weirdly, that's OK. The inability to focus on something and write it is not necessarily a bad thing. The important thing is to try and get something on paper (or digital paper, in this case) so there's something to show for it. That's really my entire goal with this 1,000 word challenge. It doesn't have to be gold, it just has to exist.

So here I am, ~200 words deep into nothing. Struggling to keep from opening a new tab, checking Twitter, or turning on the TV. I could go upstairs and get some food. I could start decorating the area around my new desk. I could go pee. I could feed the cat. I could start a load of laundry or vacuum up the unfathomable amount of dog hair that permeates my life from every angle. A big part of me wants to do those things instead of write nonsense. But - and I can't stress this enough - sometimes that's what writing is.

Writers don't always want to write. There's a not-so-secret secret out there that the most successful writers don't treat writing as a fun hobby, they treat it as a job because that's what it is. It takes discipline, organization, and sometimes a level of stubbornness that you don't want to admit. For me, that's happening right now. If I hadn't started this 1,000 words challenge for myself, I would have ignored this blank document and left it there for a few days until something particularly interesting popped into my head. Maybe I would have just waited until the next Cavs game and written while watching that. Maybe I would have done nothing at all until I was just so bored that I felt like I was cheating myself.

Whatever the reason that motivates you to write, heed it. For me, it's often guilt. I love to write - I really do - because it's therapeutic. I love it because I know that I'm better at formulating and explaining an idea than a lot of people (I know this because I tutor English/writing at a community college and, to put it gently, not every essay I see is an A+), and because of that I sometimes feel like I owe it to myself and others to use my ability. Nobody likes wasted talent, so if I sit on my hands and ignore a talent that I have - rather than hone it and work on it - then I'm a waste.

I don't want to be a waste.

Being a writer doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to one day sell a million copies of a book. It doesn't mean I'm going to make $100,000 a year writing for The Ringer or Sports Illustrated. It doesn't mean I'm going to publish a hard-copy of my own novel and send it to libraries and bookstores in an attempt to market myself. It doesn't mean I'm going to carry business cards with my name an e-mail address with the word "Writer" in the center. It doesn't mean I have to obtain a small business license to document any income I receive as a writer. It doesn't necessarily mean any of these things.

On the flip side, it could mean any of those things, but that's a personal thing. To me, being "a writer" is some type of amorphous title that means that I can't go extended periods without toying with some concept and stewing over it at-length. It doesn't always mean that I have to write out my feelings on the matter; it may mean that I need to talk to someone about it and work out the kinks of this idea or feeling. That, to me, is the same as writing. Expressing whatever needs to be expressed, when it needs to be expressed.

It's an abstract concept, and it's probably different for everyone, but I imagine a lot of people consider themselves something - a singer, an artist, a talker - even if they don't do that thing professionally or often enough that others would consider them that thing. Boy, that was a poorly constructed sentence from someone who claims to be a writer.

Anyway, I'm closing in on 1000 words here and I have to go walk dogs for a stranger because the Rover app is pretty cool. If you missed it last week when I wrote about Ginger the foster dog, I love dogs. A lot. (Note: Ginger got adopted less than two hours after her return to the shelter. I'm told that's maybe the fastest turnaround they've ever had. I am happy for her, but I'm also sad because I loved her and would have happily kept her forever.) Thanks to Rover, I'm now monetizing my love for dogs.

As Chris Rock once said: Whatever it is you do, get paid to do it. I am happily going to go make some money to hang out with dogs. What could be better than that?

Getting paid to write. Dumb question.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Vienna Christmas, part 1

When I last left you, the two Koniecznys were about to arrive and we were going to do...well, something. And a week later we were all going to Vienna for Christmas to see some of my family members who live there (one of them is Norbert, who you might remember from canyoning). Carly and her mom got in on Sunday and we just kinda hung out the first day or two, but they wanted to see the sights and took off to see some nearby things and places, which is something they might tell you about if they were blogging but I don't think they are. Anyway, the real excitement started at the end of the week. Carly and her mom took an overnight train to Vienna on Thursday/Friday and Jenna and I had to wait until Saturday to go. We took a two-layover train; once in Verona to turn to the north and then a second stop in Innsbruck to switch onto an Austrian (OBB) train that would swoop through southeastern Germany en route to Vienna. It was a nearly 12 hour day of trains and, believe it or not, it...

Vienna Christmas, Part 2

In Part 1 , we had a handful of days in Vienna with Carly. But she had to leave and we had to press on and enjoy dreary old wonderful Vienna (and more) without her. On the day she left, the three of us who remained took a tour of the underground catacombs under St. Stephen's Cathedral, which is Vienna's big, central church. The tour started off shaky, as we weren't sure whether we'd see dead bones or not because we were looking at some burial sites of former priests and the like. Suddenly there appeared a hole in the floor of one room which was quite literally filled with bones. Mostly arms and legs, with skulls neatly placed on top. Very cool. The next room was lined around the walls, and still another was full of haphazard skeletal remains. My bride-to-be was in heaven. I ignored this possible red-flag. No photos allowed though, so I can't share any. We stuck around the city center until dusk, hoping to get a nice glimpse of things under the lights, and ...

New Year's Eve

One thing that seems to be a true worldwide phenomenon is the realization that my last name is used on New Year's Eve signs around the globe. At first I felt slighted, as if someone were cheapening the worth of my last name. In more recent years I've taken is as a weird sort of compliment and even occasionally tried to make it into a pseudo-attention-getting thing if I'm feeling very "look at me" on a particular day. But that's not what I'm supposed to tell you about because that's boring. What's not boring is that most of the big cities around the world do big exciting fireworks displays and celebrations that stretch way beyond a ball dropping down a pole and standing in a crowd of 500,000 people for nine hours. In short, New Year's in the states generally blows. In the northern US you either go overpay by insane amounts to go to a bar and then wait for three hours for a cab back home or you go to a friend's house and it's...fine. ...