In my last post, When change steals your dreams, I touched on the recent writers’ conference I attended in Las Vegas. Although there were a multitude of takeaways, one I put into practice today: Write. Oh sure, I write when I squeeze it in between tasks or in lieu of watching TV. I write when I’m on deadline or a blog idea rattles around in my white matter. Yet, until the conference, I’ve always felt guilty for shutting out the world while I indulge in what oftentimes feels like a selfish passion. But not anymore. I finally committed to a set [amount of] time each day to devote to writing. Another takeaway is it doesn’t matter what I’m writing, as long as my butt is in my chair and I’m putting words on paper. Even if I’m not laboring over the “next great American novel,” any writing I do is honing my craft, one word—one essay, blog or article—at a time. That’s my dream. No apologies.
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