If you're going to be a writer you must learn to pull a rabbit out of a hat. Did you ever wonder why all writers are crazy? Well, there you have it right there. Writers struggle with trying bind reality and illusion. I didn't set out to be one, it was put upon me at an early age. I was always expected to play a guitar and write my own stuff. My parents always supported me, it was everyone else that gave me problems.
If I'd had my way I would have been a magician. Magic relaxes me, and I don't try to figure out he illusions because that would steal the magic, and if life has no magic, no mystery, then it all becomes mundane, like Belton, Texas on a Saturday night. I'm no good at magic so I decided to create literary illusions. It's the same thing actually. A magician pulls a rabbit from a hat, I pull a thought from someone's mind. The results are almost the same, and like the rabbit, the thought was always there, someone just had to make it appear.
No one will ever accept you as a writer. That's because everyone thinks they are a writer. They do not think there's a skill to it. I've met people who wanted to write children’s books, not because they love children, but because they thought it was easy, and anyone could do it. Writing is not easy. Many are called, but few are chosen. Just think about it. How many people have you ever met who weren't talking about writing something? Everyone has some book idea in their head, and it always has something to do with their extraordinary life. Yet very few can actually pull something together. That's where he money thing comes in. “How much money have you made?” All writers have heard that. When you meet a plumber, does anyone ask, “How much money have you made?”
The writer gets paid in other ways, and it looks like a dodge, but it's not. How much money have I made writing? More than I've made doing anything else! Does that make any difference? Not one bit. If you struggle in the arts you will always have that. It goes with the territory. If you are going to write, and survive, you must derive a reward from somewhere else. When you learn to pull the rabbit out of the hat every time then the satisfaction of being able to do that alone will be your reward. When you get an email from someone who read an article you wrote three years ago, and they SAW the rabbit, that's about as good as it goes.
In all likelihood you will never achieve fame, and fortune will always be just around the corner if you can keep the lights on, but if you're a writer, a real writer, this very adversity is what drives the words, and if you can put those words across then that, and that alone is your pay. The plumber fixes your toilet, and maybe you think about him once in the morning, but if you can pull that rabbit out of that hat your reader will see that rabbit again, and again, and in fifty years some little girl who was born long after you are gone will marvel at the eternal rabbit just waiting to amaze her, and that, my friend, is immortality!
If I'd had my way I would have been a magician. Magic relaxes me, and I don't try to figure out he illusions because that would steal the magic, and if life has no magic, no mystery, then it all becomes mundane, like Belton, Texas on a Saturday night. I'm no good at magic so I decided to create literary illusions. It's the same thing actually. A magician pulls a rabbit from a hat, I pull a thought from someone's mind. The results are almost the same, and like the rabbit, the thought was always there, someone just had to make it appear.
No one will ever accept you as a writer. That's because everyone thinks they are a writer. They do not think there's a skill to it. I've met people who wanted to write children’s books, not because they love children, but because they thought it was easy, and anyone could do it. Writing is not easy. Many are called, but few are chosen. Just think about it. How many people have you ever met who weren't talking about writing something? Everyone has some book idea in their head, and it always has something to do with their extraordinary life. Yet very few can actually pull something together. That's where he money thing comes in. “How much money have you made?” All writers have heard that. When you meet a plumber, does anyone ask, “How much money have you made?”
The writer gets paid in other ways, and it looks like a dodge, but it's not. How much money have I made writing? More than I've made doing anything else! Does that make any difference? Not one bit. If you struggle in the arts you will always have that. It goes with the territory. If you are going to write, and survive, you must derive a reward from somewhere else. When you learn to pull the rabbit out of the hat every time then the satisfaction of being able to do that alone will be your reward. When you get an email from someone who read an article you wrote three years ago, and they SAW the rabbit, that's about as good as it goes.
In all likelihood you will never achieve fame, and fortune will always be just around the corner if you can keep the lights on, but if you're a writer, a real writer, this very adversity is what drives the words, and if you can put those words across then that, and that alone is your pay. The plumber fixes your toilet, and maybe you think about him once in the morning, but if you can pull that rabbit out of that hat your reader will see that rabbit again, and again, and in fifty years some little girl who was born long after you are gone will marvel at the eternal rabbit just waiting to amaze her, and that, my friend, is immortality!
No comments:
Post a Comment