This is what my co-worker said tonight as I was driving him home. He’s not a jerk, I promise. We were talking about my blog and he asked how it was going. I told him that this month I’m committed to writing a post every day. He was curious how I find content since I have such a normal, not-hilarious job.

Therein lies this writer’s challenge!

So…

Here goes.

Oh, quick aside – I’ve installed a line of code where Google is now going to tell me what percentage of you are chicks. No idea how this is determined, but hope at least a few guys read this thing. If not, I’m just going to give up and start menstruating.

Oh, another quick aside – I lost three pounds last night. I woke up this morning, stepped on the scale, and rejoiced. I mean, I didn’t literally rejoice as I think that involves throwing your hands high to the heavens and singing. I just grunted out a half smile and scratched my nards. And before you tell me that this was simply water-weight let me tell you something, mister! Sure I peed twice during the night and also right before I got on the scale. That I cannot argue. However, earlier I had commanded my subconscious to ramp up my metabolism while I slept. I wish I was kidding, but I really did. I said this affirmation out loud at least twenty times. I know only a moron would believe you can lose three pounds in one night this way, but I’m going to assume that’s what did it. Because it’s more fun.

Let’s keep going with the asides. Today there was a special on beef jerky at Walgreens. I don’t mean some paltry $.50 off coupon. We’re talking $4.00 off a $7.00 item! That’s pretty impressive in the jerky retail world. I happened to notice it and, hey, it’s not like I’m not going to buy beef jerky that’s 67% off. I purchased two packs. In a weird coincidence I had already consumed jerky that morning. I ran out of yogurt the day before and was scrambling looking for food. I found this high-end jerky my girlfriend had bought me for Christmas. I tore into it and had a jerky breakfast. Then, as mentioned earlier, an awesome jerky lunch. Nearly three packs of jerky were eaten today. I smell like death.

Last aside, I promise. I lied to a friend today. We were talking on the phone and I made a comment that the Squatty Potty was changing my life. As soon as I said it I knew I had made a tactical error. See, I was on the Squatty Potty at the time. She asked, “Are you on the Squatty Potty?” Before I knew it a lie shot out of my mouth. “Well, I never!” I shouted in my best offended-woman-from-the-south voice. I know that it’s gross to do this and most of the time I don’t. But she was in the middle of a story and nature called. Maybe deep down I wanted to get caught. I’ll bring it up with the therapist tomorrow.

Okay, I lied to you. One more aside. I’m not convinced that quinoa is anything other than little pieces of plastic. I put that crap into my chicken soup tonight and let it boil for fifteen minutes. These squiggly things pop out of it after a while and then that was the end of the magic. Not very exciting. Plus, it tasted like gravel. It’s the Grape Nuts of dinner.

So yeah, all in all not a very exciting day, but they can’t all be I-single-handedly-discovered-the-nature-of-God days. I’ll try harder tomorrow to do something cool.

photo credit: theimpulsivebuy via photopin cc

Well, I’ve tweeted about the Squatty Potty. It’s changing my life. Hands down, the best $25 I’ve spent. Actually, I didn’t spend the money. I asked my girlfriend for it for Christmas. How’s that for a trusting relationship? We had only been dating around four months at the time. Anyway, I recommend you check it out. Trust me.

I’ve  written several times about how most evenings I have no idea about what’s I’m going to discuss on the blog. Ideas don’t often pop into my head earlier in the day. Most of the time I’m filled with a low-level fear that I won’t be able think of anything good. I let that fear overtake me for a full year in 2013.

Back in 2012 I participated in the Ultimate Blog Challenge. This is where you motivate yourself to write every day for a month. I pushed through the difficulties and ended up writing four hundred days without a miss. Then I hit a wall and needed a break. I got out of the habit and  only published around seventy-five entries over the past year. I’ve re-committed to posting every day this January. We’ll see what happens after that.

The book that really kicked my ass into gear creatively, is The War of Art  by Steven Pressfield.

In the book Pressfield states there are only two types of creatives – amateurs and pros. He is militant in his beliefs that writers need to write as often as possible. That they’re not supposed to strive for perfection – that will just paralyze and halt the ability to create. He posits that you have to be willing to “turn pro” which means you are no longer a sidelines observer, that you take time every day to do your work.

This book was just the reminder I needed that when I sit down and “do my work” I find the greatest reward. I feel satisfied creatively. People have asked me over the years how to find a blog audience. I tell them to write with truth and vulnerability. Everyone wants to connect through shared experience.

But I also tell them one other thing – write for yourself. Here’s why. It’s not because it’s the noble thing to do – there’s nothing wrong with wanting to find readers. The reason to write for yourself is because YOU get to feel good.

Here’s my process. I sit down at the computer. I’m terrified and doubtful that I have anything to say. Most of the time nothing comes for fifteen or twenty minutes. I write anyway. Something begins to take shape. I’m still doubting the entire way until the last sentence. I re-read the piece three times more and remove extraneous words. I still feel unsure. I finish editing, hit publish, and call it a night.

The next morning, on the way to work (I take the subway) I re-read what I had completed the night before. The strangest thing happens – I start to feel good. Not because every sentence is perfect – I’m probably critical of 80% of the content. But I find a few gems in each post and I feel more pride than just about anywhere else in my life. At that point I don’t care if anyone reads it, comments it, or shares it on Facebook. I’m satisfied with what I wrote and nothing can alter that feeling.

From there anyone who reads the post or comments or shares is gravy. The fact that people want to read this stuff is a very gratifying experience. As such I try to connect back to them through comment replies and reading their content should they be a writer.

I encourage you to read Pressfield’s book. It’s not for the faint of heart. He’ll kick you up and down the creative hall. He takes no prisoners. But at the end – he’s right. You get to feel satisfied when you beat your resistance (we all have it) and sit down to do your work. It’s just about the best feeling in the world.