I’m prolific for a reason.
First, my mind is going all the time, driven by a daily practice of reading combined with bold-brewed coffee. I mean this – seriously. Ideas are everywhere. I read all kinds of articles and books every day. I read news, entertainment, forums, business, and science pieces daily. By the power of a trained overactive imagination spurred by caffeine, I pick up concepts and put them together like tanagram pieces – over and over in different combinations until I snag something beautiful.
Second, I sit in front of a computer. This sounds really obvious, but let me unpack what I mean. I sit here typing while my hiccuping preschooler climbs onto my lap. I’m still writing. He’s chattering away about snowmen. I’m still typing. I’ve got intense wrist braces on. I’m still typing. For me, writing is a priority. I make a mental commitment daily to get a blog post written, as well as a fragment of a greater project.
Third, I don’t let doubt stop me from putting myself out there. Sometimes I feel anxious about a piece. Sometimes I think “Well, what if it pisses someone off?” or “What if I missed something?” but those are pointless worries. I realized a long time ago that I am as prepared as I can be. I can’t control other people and I can’t guarantee anything is perfect. If I waited to publish because of either of those things, I’d never publish.
I write this now because recently I’ve seen some negative beliefs about production.
Rather than focus on those, let me just say, I’m not prolific through some magical spell or inherent talent. I am prolific because I encouraged this behavior for years. Anyone could do the same. It’s just a question of choice – of what you want.
I am a writer. I write.
Now tell me, who are you? What do you do?
Let me know.
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