A friend introduced me to a blog that is primarily the author writing about writing (in fact I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s called). You can find the blog on Writing about Writing by clicking that link. Tell Chris I sent you. He has no earthly idea who the fuck I am, but I think it’d be fun to shoot the shit with him.
So…he had a post on there regarding talent. What? You want the link to that too? Do some legwork.
His approach to the talent question is really thought out, and if I may paraphrase…’who gives a shit about if you have talent or not? Just do the thing you’re passionate about.’
That is an incredible oversimplification. You really should read the post.
But there comes a point where Chris asks the question that invariably gets asked. More as a gut-check I think. And he puts it like this:
“If you knew today that you would never be published, never make money, never get a book deal, never have a fan…..If you knew that for sure, would that stop you from the simple love for the act of writing itself?”
And there you have the bullshit premise. I used to look at that question in its myriad form and answer, “yes…yes. A thousand times yes!!’
And I would. I would write. I could no sooner stop writing than I could stop breathing. Some might look at that and say ‘Bullshit, Todd.’
To which I say, fuck you. Because I’m doing it now. I mean. Yes. Posting something on a blog could be interpreted as being published. And yes. I suppose I have fans of my work. My work primarily being what I ‘publish’ on my blog. But I’m not making money on it. I don’t have a book deal.
So. Yes. I would write anyway. I think we covered that.
I don’t know where I was going with that. Other than to maybe say…find your passion. And then live the hell out of it. Talent or not. Fame or not. Do it because it’s what the fuck you have to do to know that you truly lived your life’s purpose.
Have a kick ass Saturday evening my friends. If you’re in an area under Mother Nature’s Siege, be safe.