I’ve been told writing is a discipline. If this is true then I suppose it is comparable to brushing teeth or using your parking break when you’re on a hill. If THAT’S true, then I suppose I might as well not even bother to brush my teeth or use my parking break since that is about how I feel about my own discipline as a writer. I mean seriously, besides having horrible cavities and/or rolling away on a hill, I don’t suppose anything horrible can come from not exercising those disciplines. So with writing, not publishing my book that millions of people will read, and having a horrible smile and sores on my feet from having to walk everywhere for lack of car then… wait I totally lost that train of thought.
So I was thinking about all this one day, at a coffee shop of all places, sipping a latte of all drinks, and I said to myself, “Self, you need to practice this discipline of writing. You must write even when you don’t feel like it. Right here, right now, here on this very wobbly table, drinking that latte before your car rolls away.” So I did. I busted out a pen and paper and I did it. I wrote. I write. And I will write again.