I write.

I now see why so few people ever become professional writers.

It’s not just about taking a seat and writing. It’s about sitting down day after day after day, tirelessly working on a large project until that project is finished.

There are days of laziness, days of apathy, days of doubt in one’s own craft. Days with a sense of powerlessness. And yet you sit down. You write. Afterwards, there will be a few more letters and words that haven’t been there yesterday. If you haven’t taken a seat, they wouldn’t be there now. It’s not much. But you sit down anyway. You start with a single letter.
Then you write a word.
Then a sentence.
A paragraph.
A scene.
A chapter.
And then you realize you’ve barely begun.
But you do it anyway.
You write.

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