Papers we carry around

Many years ago my friend Terri Casey sent me a photocopied copy of a chapter of a writing book. Chapter XVIII –He Whose Face Gives No Light Shall Never Become a Star – Blake. I’ve carried the folded piece of paper around for years. I don't know why I've held on to this piece of paper, but I have. I pull it from time to time and re-read it. It feels like an old friend and that is reason enough to keep it close. At the bottom of the page is a note written from Terri in green ink. It says “E- Came across this, from “If you Want to Write”, an old classic, during some end-of-the-year file purging. Thought you’d enjoy. Happy New Year – Love Terri."

The Author outlines a case for the spark within each person and her dream for a nation of writers. She lays out a list of 12 things to do if you want to write and live more fully. As an ‘old classic’ I’ve rewritten the list in a language I can understand. According to her, and through my interpretation, if you want to write:

1. Know you are unique, one without equal, and have something to say.
2. Apply ass to chair with a smile. The work is good, easy, light, fun and a privilege.
3. Be fearless and reckless in first drafts.
4. Write everything, anything, but remember “better to strangle and infant in the cradle than nurse un-acted desires” Blake.
5. Don’t be afraid to Suck. In fact…suck often.
6. Respect yourself enough not to be ashamed. Of course you make mistakes….move on!
7. Don’t BS. Write from your core and not your theoretical self.
8. Remember you are a miracle, unique, without equal (see #1) “We are to be less taught and more reminded” Samuel Johnson.
9. Don’t get comfortable. Write at the brink of disaster and greatness.
10. When you hear the voice (internal or external) say “You can’t”, DO! And silence that voice.
11. Don’t be afraid of your own reflection. Laugh and write through it.
12. Don’t compare. Just be.
13. (mine) Don’t walk around hungry. “We are only half ourselves and the other half is our expression” Emerson. We wouldn’t leave a dinner table half full so don’t walk around half fed, half ourselves.
    
    All good things,
    Wig