A lot of people fuck off between Thanksgiving and New Year. Writing routines, diets, exercise, sending work out, etc. It all gets subsumed by the holiday, by family, by suicidal ideation. It’s really difficult to stay on track, to keep getting up at five and cracking a few pages out of your ass. Is anyone out there? Does anyone care? Who am I writing for? Myself? Philip Roth? Moshe Pipick? You have to be your own hole. You have to wonder how Mick Jagger does it? You have to attack attack attack. You can not rest, can not let this moment result in the sad realization that you suck. Take the brief case. Take the hammer. Take the lost tribe Ireland. Do not let people laugh at you. Do not be deterred. Do not quit. Not now. Not yet.
A prequel to new year’s resolution: what are you going to get done between now and the new year? Writing-wise?
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