There are a few times when you sit down and stare at a blank page. You want to write something, but nothing is coming out. The blank page stares back at you, almost like you’ve just met for the first time. Its spotless, and anything you write will taint it, so you want it to be perfect. Then your brain starts to itch.

Who will read this anyway?

Will dozens of people appreciate what I have said? Will they agree with me and tell me this is great work? Or will I be the author and reader alone?

That last thought is a scary one.

Not because being your only fan sucks, but because it leads to the next thought. What’s the point? Why should I write anyways? What can I write about that people will read?

That is what stops a lot of people from writing. And when you don’t write, you devoid the world of your thoughts, however funny, happy, imaginary, sad, or useless they may be. Yes I said useless. Useless thoughts are necessary in writing, because it helps feed the imagination. When you don’t write, you don’t just devoid the world, but you devoid your own imagination.

Write whatever you want. Make it practical, based on your life, or make it irrelevant, based on your fantasy. Fill it with data points and make people believe in your work, or add magic and make people believe in your dreams. People will care, you just don’t know who. That’s the point.

Just write something damnit.