Discipline

When it's been a few days with not much time for writing, it's easy to toy with giving up. Then I think of my dad. He worked hard, supporting us, as a dedicated minister, and finally got the chance to write full time when he retired at sixty-five. He and my mom lived incredibly frugally in rented apartments so he could live his dream.

The thing I have in common with my dad is the love of the craft. That's why he did it. He was far too humble to try and get published. His short stories are our family legacy. Carrying on the legacy for me means pushing myself toward publication.

I'd like to say it's self discipline that takes me back to the keyboard instead of giving up. But I am not that self disciplined. It's the simple love of words that takes me back. Playing around with words never gets old for me. Like for my dad.

I saw a quote from Fran Lebowitz yesterday. She said, "I am probably the worst speller in the world, so I am constantly looking things up. Every time I sit at my desk, I look at my dictionary, a Webster’s Second Unabridged with nine million words in it and think, All the words I need are in there; they’re just in the wrong order."

I aspire to her wit.

More later.