As Inspiring as I Get

Ernest Hemingway once said, or maybe I’m paraphrasing, that there are two kinds of people: those who write and those who talk about it. Charles Bukowski once said that the difference between him and everyone else is that he sat down and did the work. He had a poem about an aspiring writer who went on and on about how best to write a poem. The conclusion Buk made was that just like everyone else who couldn’t write for shit, this guy sure could talk about it.

I butcher these dead writer’s words to make a quick point: stop talking about writing. Just write. “Writing” here can be the substitute for whatever it is in your life that you wish to do, whatever secret thing fuels your dreams and makes life somewhat bearable (or sweetly torturous). Whatever it is, go do it. Write your book, paint your picture, build your home, race your car, walk your tightrope. But, in the meantime, shut up about it. Get to fucking work, goddamnit.