A Prolific Attitude
Go to Amazon and see the 18 books I have there. I’ve been writing poems and short fiction since I was 12 (getting close to 33 now). I started writing seriously in 2009, have completed two novels, a novella and fifteen short stories, all of them with various word count. I still rhyme, just for the hell of it, and currently got my dream job: I am an editor at a local newspaper. How cool is that?
The question I heard a lot is, “how you do it?”
The truth is, there is nothing otherworldly about writing. You just have to sit your ass down and let your fingers do the job. My beginnings in the writing arena occurred while I had nine-to-fives. Many of them. I can’t sleep whatever number of hours the doctor says I have to sleep because my brain is an entity of its own and does what it pleases. For the last nine years of my life I have worked hard, preparing myself for the life I am living right now.
The life of a full-time writer.
Now, would my life become more difficult now that I have to read and write editorials for a newspaper every day? Would I lose interest in writing my own fiction every night? The answer to those questions is no. My life just had a massive update. I belong to a world with new and fresh ideas I can use and write about. From now on, there are no limits. Nothing can stop me.
Well, death can, but if I am going to die with my hands glued to a keyboard, so be it.
Writing isn’t that hard when you have been doing it for as long as I have. Many aspiring writers would come to me and tell me that it is super hard for them to finish their novels because they have run out of ideas. I disagree. People don’t just run out of ideas. Most aspiring writers approach the idea of a story just like a nervous man approaches a woman at a bar. Somewhere along the line they put writing on a pedestal, elevating it to an untruthful status, making it akin to ambrosia, a feast that only the gods can have.
Oh God, writing that last sentence just made me want to kill myself.
Look, I get it, I sound like an asshole (and perhaps I am one), but you have to understand: life is supposed to be challenging, and the only way that you can be someone is by taking life by the horns and use whatever obstacles you find to your advantage.
Don’t believe me? You still think writing is hard? Ok, got a library, then. Look around. What do you see? Books? Who do you think wrote those books?
Yes, people like you and I wrote those books. Accomplishing a goal is difficult, but if you really want to finish that book, you have to be persistent. Of many others have written great works of fiction, who is to say you can’t do the same?
When you’re working on a story, the only way to go is forward. You have this idea developing in your mind, taking place, becoming something. You have to keep going forward, there is no other way around. Characters are popping out in your head, imaginary avatars from the world you are creating with both your brain and your fingertips. Give those characters their form, their shape, their virtues and flaws, making them big or small, give them a place in the world. This a is a hypnotic process. You are allowing your brain to go wild and think on its own. You are getting out of your own skin and allowing the story to be born without restrictions.
To be prolific is to let the go of self-destructing bullshit. Keep putting words down, the story is going to come out on its own. Don’t even tell yourself you have writer’s block. That was just a term that people without motivation use to explain their lack of fortitude. The words you’re putting down are beginning to take form. Keep doing that. Until the end.