A writer’s prayer to crush preciousness (why I’m blogging)
I want to explore ideas, not just get stuck on one seemingly forever. I enjoy writing and I want to be consistently good at it, but I’m not out to win a Pulitzer. I’m not a “writers’ writer”.
I want to stop slaving to produce a masterpiece. I have been doing that for years now. It leaves me alone and it warps my view of the world.
God, curse me with a deadline. Crush my precious fantasies and replace them with reality. I now submit as best I can. I pray to tend less toward monstrosity and more toward man.
“Where iss it? Where iss it?” Bilbo heard him crying. “Losst it is, my precious, lost, lost! Curse us and crush us, my precious is lost!”
That’s the point. That’s the point of this.