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My mother’s condition is stable, and her next appointment is not until 8/12. So I have about two weeks to gather everything together and tether all the balloons. In other words, lots to do before I rest.
This is not a bad thing. It just takes discipline. Determination.
Today I watched a documentary about Harlan Ellison, who was one of the first writers whose prose knocked me on my butt and showed me what being a writer meant. Listening to him, reading his words is much like being sucked into an irresistible vortex. He may sometimes set my teeth on edge, but I still find it virtually impossible to look away. He scrapes my writer’s nerves to the rawest envy, desire . . . and encouragement.
He once said the line that I’ve adopted almost as a mantra when I talk to new writers, when I try to explain that there are no shortcuts just because you’re talented, no easy path when you write from the heart: “Any writer who CAN be discouraged, SHOULD be.”
If you are a writer, you will write, no matter who says otherwise. And in the next two weeks, I am most determined to edit what needs to be edited and write what needs to be written – and meet those blasted deadlines.
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