Dear De,

Okay, you.
Seriously.
Enough with the pessimism, and the procras
ti
na
tion
tendencies
and the self flagellation sessions and the hesi

tation.

Keep writing.
And every once in a teeny, tiny while, send something.
Somewhere. Doesn’t even matter where, at first. Just
press send, and then
Keep writing.
Ignore the voices in your head that say you aren’t any
good (consider this: they might lie). Ignore the choices
in your day that push writing aside (consider this: so
much just doesn’t matter).
Keep writing.
In indigo and turquoise and periwinkle and violet. In
sickness and in health and in the deepest darkest pits
of never ever wanting to press another word onto the page.
Keep writing.
Because guess what?
It pays off.
Okay, I perhaps use the term “pays” loosely. But you’ve never
been all that concerned with fame or riches anyway, right? Just
good words, good work, good people. And oh, it pays off in all of
those, and more.
Those poems from your heart?
Someday they will heal the hearts of others.
Those characters you love?
Someday they will be beloved by some amazing little people.
Keep writing.
Because the world need good words, and you’ve got some to give.
Because it’s what you are
called
gifted
wired up
to do.
Because it makes your own heart so.very.happy.
And that’s success, baby.

And because I said so, and I am 30 years smarter than you.
Keep writing.
Plus also: quit worrying. It causes wrinkles. Trust me.

 

 

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