drink tea

anonymous asked:

I want to write. I really do. I've been working on this story for years and creating the world inside my head, but whenever I actually open a notebook or sit at the computer I freeze. I'm scared of writing crap. I'm scared of it all being wasted hours, wasted years. How do I just force myself to write?

Hello, there~

I’m actually happy you asked this on Anon, because I’m going to ask you a few very HARD questions.

You see, any other writing blog would probably point you at many of the dozen times they’ve answered questions like:

“I feel like I’m writing crap” or “I don’t know where to start.”

But that is not what your question is really about, isn’t it? No. There is a little something-something to your question that attracted my attention. And this is the part where the HARD (and rather mean) questions come in.

I don’t give a flying fuck who it was, but someone — at some point in your life — told you that writing was a waste of time. Your father, your mother, your school counselor, the pretty girl you met at that one party. I don’t care who it was, but their shitty personality planted the seed of doubt in the garden of your mind. And whoa are the weeds showing.

  • Do you really think writing is a waste of time? Or did someone tell you it was a waste of time?
  • Is there something else you would rather be doing? Or did someone tell you that you should be spending your time doing something else?

Those are not the hard questions. These are:

  • Do you enjoy writing? Do you enjoy telling stories?
  • If you do, then why do you think it would be a waste of time?

If you’re expecting to put words on the paper and make a masterpiece on the first draft then I am going to give you a reality check. That doesn’t happen. The first draft of everything is shit. It’s going to be crap, the real test comes in revising the story— cleaning it, polishing it, and then you will truly see the beauty in it.

Is it hard? Yeah. But so is everything in life.

I love telling stories. I know that no one else in the world can tell my stories, and that someone out there will be going through a hard time in their life— and that only my words will get them through it.

The garden of your mind is full of weeds, Anon. Doubt has very thick roots— but if you have the courage you can rip it out.

  • If your father told you that unless you’re a doctor you’re wasting your time. Fuck him and his opinion.
  • If your mom told you that unless you get married you’re wasting your time. Fuck her and her opinion.
  • If your school councelor told you that unless you go to an university and get a degree you’re wasting your time. Fuck them and their opinion.
  • If that pretty girl at that one party told you that nobody reads books anymore. Fuck her— and fuck her shitty ass opinion.

You’re going to die someday, Anon. Your minutes are counted. Spend them doing the things you love. The things you enjoy. It’s your life, and you don’t have to make anyone else happy but yourself.

Remove the doubt from the garden of your mind, and please let the flowers grow.