Why I Write
My 26th weekly post on Medium
Six months ago I dared myself to contribute to the world using words…
…every week for one year.
A year is more than enough time to instill a habit.
The rationale: a year of weekly writing would become like brushing my teeth. I plan to publish multiple times a week by the end of this year.
My first piece, Growing Up Is Knowledge, took months to complete. Hitting “publish” was terrifying. Despite being proud of my work, voices in my head shouted, “How dare you do this — who gave you permission to be a writer?”
I put it out there. It was well received. Writing became more comfortable, though never easy. Most of the magic happens at Bricks and Scones in Larchmont, a quaint neighborhood in Los Angeles.
There’s one rule: publish something every Monday.
That’s it.
When I started, I worried about writing topics. Many Sundays involved staring at the computer screen, infuriated with zero ideas.
Now I have more ideas than time to give them justice. There have even been weeks spent juggling multiple pieces, like 1,000 Days of Gluttony, which took two weeks to write.
To give you an idea of the topics I bounce around, here’s a snapshot from my Medium drafts page:
- Comfort in Insecurity
- Living a Safe Life
- Breaking the Rules
- Storytelling
- Avocados
- I Have Big Calves
- How to Reek Confidence
- Stop Caring too Much
- Moderation
- Letting Go
- Listening
- Bacon: And Why It’s Awesome
- Everyone is Interesting
- Turning Points
I write about improving ourselves as people and contributors to society. And food, but those are moving to my new food website, effingdelicio.us.
I write about growing up, what I’ve learned post-college, and making the most of this messy thing we call life.
Recently I asked myself: why do I do this?
Besides the obvious: to flex my writing muscles, build a worthy habit, and scare myself a little bit each week.
It hit me.
I give a lot of advice. Advice that I’ve received from others. Advice that I value. Advice that I follow.
And most importantly, advice I don’t always follow.
So I’m a hypocrite.
For instance, in The Commencement Address No One Asked For, I describe things I know and have learned over the past three years but still struggle with daily.
I write to convince myself to follow my own advice.
I write to take the very best parts of me and put them out there, raw, unfiltered and sincere, for the world to see.
If just one person has a takeaway from my words, that’s enough.
But at the end of the day, I write for me. Carving a voice involves sacrificing a part of yourself in order to make something cohesive out of nothing.
Writing makes me a better person. A better communicator. And a better contributor to society.
Is it for everyone? Probably not. But you should try it.
You might just surprise yourself.
Thank you to Julien Smith and Seth Godin, whose writing styles, habits, and thoughts inspired me to take on this lifestyle.
