It’s true, you know. You will write a last word, and never write another.  It happens. It’s like drinking or smoking.  Everybody quits.  Eventually. But, it is what you do before you quit that will make all the difference.

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That is what it is about, I think.  Whether the difference you make is for the world at large, or just for yourself, it is that growth, that steady climb, that new awareness of your ability to communicate  just that much better that is what defines you as a writer.

I think about this a lot, and I’m guessing that you do, too.  Wondering, as we write, if what we have to say will ever move another to laugh, to cry, or perhaps more importantly, to think.

Today, as I consider this question, I cannot (almost cannot) imagine a day when I won’t write.  I expect to write something on my last day of life, but the future is dark to us, and who can say?  Might we not lose confidence?  Lose faith in ourselves?  Might we not grow to tired, or come to a belief that no matter what we scribble down, it will not make a difference?

I hope not.  I love what I do, and I know that most of you do, too.

So, this is my challenge.

Write.

Write and write and write, and when you get tired, or lose faith, or have nothing more to say, write more anyway.

Our craft is like a muscle, and practice makes it stronger.

Write today before you go to bed.  Write tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.  And keep at it.

Despair is for the unimaginative.  Sadness is an emotion that you can form into a story.  Exhaustion is an excuse.  Guilt is just a story.

So, yes.  Everybody quits writing.  Eventually.  But you get to say just how long you hold on to your love of words.

Write, my friends.

Write.

      

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