Unless you’re a large business with the right sort of representation to bitch & whine to the government for a bailout, you can’t get something for nothing. You need to work to be successful. Even geckos know that. And you don’t want to be outdone by a gecko, do you? I didn’t think so. I mean, he’s cute and all, what with the big expressive eyes and the adorable accent, but if a tiny lizard can do it, what’s to stop a human being with a fully-functional frontal lobe, or even the likes of Sarah Palin?
I know I said I was going to avoid political commentary in this webspace, so all I’m going to say is that Ms. Palin has gotten a book published. I could continue to rag on Stephenie Meyer and Dan Brown, but at least when they throw up on their keyboards something colorful comes out. Ms. Palin’s vomit has all the color and variety of the Bonneville Salt Flats. Anyway, let me meander back to my point.
My point is, if you want your stories to be experienced by people other than your mother or your long-suffering spouse, you need to do some work. And let’s face it – work sucks. Even when you’re doing something you enjoy, it can quickly become a chore. We’d all rather play with our kittens or fire up video games or tune into favorite shows rather than work.
It’s worth keeping in mind, however, that the end result is why we work. The goal is what we’re aiming for. Nobody plays soccer just to kick the ball. Sure, footballer’s wives get their jewelry, MGs and pool boys regardless of how their footballer plays, but the actual athlete wants to score points on the field. That net taunts them, and they want nothing more than to kick the ball hard enough to send it sailing past the tender and into the net’s smug imaginary face.
There’s a dust jacket, out there, that’s acting like a net for you. It’s all set to wrap around an edition of your story or stories, sit on a shelf and tempt consumers into buying it. It’ll gladly protect the cover of the book and the signature you’re going to put in there for a fan. And it’s patient – it’s not going anywhere. But it taunts you. It tells you that you’re not going to put anything into it. It’s more than willing to take in your work but it knows you’re struggling to motivate yourself.
Are you going to let that dust jacket win? Well, are you?
Okay, my metaphor’s stretching a little thin, but I think I’ve made my point. This struggle, the lethargy and procrastination, only lasts as long as you allow it. You are the only person who can tell that story that’s kicking around in your brainpan, and you need to be the one to sit down and bang it out. And you know that tangle of emotions that’s tripping you up on the way to your writing desk, typewriter or keyboard? They’re negative emotions you can use.
So get off your ass and do it. And by “get off your ass” I mean “walk to where you need to write, sit down on your ass, and write.” So by getting off your ass, I’m saying sit your ass down.
You heard me.