A REAL Writer

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The past week or so I have been able to get what feels like an astounding amount done. I have written, I have outlined, I have plotted, and I have written some more. The ending, while still a ways off, is suddenly in sight.

I am prone to bursts of productivity like this, but usually they happen due to a nebulous fount of inspiration. This time, however, it’s due to me digging down deep and pushing through a lack of inspiration. Getting through the rough patches is the real meat of writing, and it is something I have always struggled with.
The reason that I’ve been logging the time lately is because I keep asking myself, “Do I want to be a real writer?” Now, normally I dislike differentiating between “real” writers and the rest of us. My writing may be unpublished,  but it’s just as real as anyone else’s. So I tweaked the question and made it, “What would I do if I were a professional writer?” And the answer is that I would write. Even when I didn’t feel like it.

Reading about the writing routines of famous authors makes one thing abundantly clear: you must write. These people are logging hours at a time, multiple sessions a day. Obviously, that isn’t normally a viable option for me or anyone with another job. But on weekends, what is stopping me? Only myself. And this goes triple for those days when I end up getting time off that I wasn’t expecting. Because it’s only healthy to want a day off on the weekends, free of stress, even the lovable stress of writing. But if I get to leave work early on a Wednesday? Those hours need to count.

They say you should dress for the job you want, not the one you have. And I say that I should write like I’m a real, professional writer, even if that’s not currently the case.