The thorny rose

There’s no excuse when you just write and do stand-up, no job security. When I worked at TOMS, I had plenty of bad days where I just didn’t do very good work, and to this day nobody really knows about it. I showed up. I put in my time. I got paid for it. Simple. Time was the measurement of the value that TOMS was buying.
In writing, the value is measured in results. If I sit in front of a screen for one week, and I can’t write anything, it’s worthless. If I write ten pages that sound forced and bad, they’re worthless. Nobody wants to read bad stuff.
It’s got to be good.
It’s just got be good, damn it!
The things that frustrate me the most are often the things that I grow to love the most, and here’s that frustrating thing I love about writing:
Either my work is authentic or it is worthless.
My delusions and self deceptions can’t survive scrutiny on the page.
I love writing because it challenges me to be my authentic self.
Unless you’re perfect, authentic love should frustrate the hell out of you.
Because it so hard to say what you really mean…
But so beautiful when you manage to do it.


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