Skip to main content

Write Whatever You Want

This is probably the most obvious thing you've ever heard/read about writing: write whatever you want.


This is it. You've finally motivated yourself, and a startling burst of courage makes you place your fingers on the keyboard (or pick up your writing instrument). The white blankness of the page awaits you.

And then suddenly, you're doubting yourself. Thoughts like these begin to bombard you:

Can I really write this?

Is it worth publishing?

What do I even write? 

I'm just going to straight up say: Write.

Write whatever you want to write. Your thoughts, a random story, a poem about the tedious job of staring at blank pages all the time. It doesn't matter.

Just write.

Write about anything you're passionate about. What motivates you? What do you want to say to the world?

Write about anything you like. Even if the topic isn't in demand. Even if no one's interested in it. Keep those words flowing.

If you think your words can help humanity and the earth, write.

Because if you're not passionate about what you write about, those words will fall flat. You'll lose interest. You'll get bored and you'll scrap your work. And then you'll lose hope, and maybe you'll start to think:

Why am I even doing this? I should be doing something more productive.

So when I say write, write about what you're passionate about. Write about anything you want. Write if you've got something to say to the world.

Go forth and write,
     Germaine
     1 Corinthians 16:14

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Instrumental - a Short Story

  Instrumental By Germaine As quiet music filled the house, a cat black as night crept out of her basket. Pausing to stare at the nearest window, she watched the sun slowly burst out of the horizon. Warm light filled the room. Purring, she turned and padded downstairs to greet the pianist, who stopped playing only to stroke her. The cat nudged back his hand. In return, he smiled and continued to play. The cat rolled her eyes. Upstairs waited for her. When she reached the top, a white cat with bright green eyes met her. The black cat’s striking blue eyes flashed with recognition as she mewed a greeting. “Harpsichord! Finally, you’re awake.” “Woodwind, you were always an early riser. It’s no wonder that you’re already up.” Harpsichord answered. Woodwind purred at the compliment. “Come on, let’s see if Oboe and Bass are awake yet.” Oboe, a raven, was sleeping on her perch. Flashing Woodwind a mischievous grin, Harpsichord let out an ear-piercing screech. Oboe...

Slime Eels

-Guest post by ES- Looking for a strange creature to go in your book? This one's perfect and IT ACTUALLY EXISTS! Hagfish, or more commonly known as Slime eels, are a group of jawless soft bodied organisms that belong to the Myxinidae family. There are more than sixty different types of hagfish living in the midnight zone worldwide and not much is known about them. They have developed an extraordinary defense mechanism and are expert scavengers. I hope you will enjoy reading this post and find it very helpful. Food: Hagfish have an excellent sense of smell and touch but even though they have two tiny markings that could be mistaken for eyes Hagfish happen to be blind. Sight is not needed if you live in the inky blackness at the bottom of the sea, so they have adapted to the desolate landscape and have become expert scavengers. If they happen to stumble upon a dead fish, Hagfish lacking teeth have an extraordinary method of consuming their find. They use their rasping...

Ostrich short story

She holds her elegant neck high above the masses which she saunters through. Like a diva at a show she flaunts her plumes, casts a wary eye about for rivals, and turns up her nose at her drab brown and cream comrades.  Behold, an animal of distinction and refinement. Here is the ostrich, queen of the winged kingdom. Around her, antelope bow their heads in shame, cringing at their inferiority. Where she steps the grass seems to wither in embarrassment. Even the sun seems reluctant to disgrace her chestnut and ivory feathers. Stop. Look around. Sour musk lines the brisk breeze. She lowers the foot which was held aloft a moment ago, her previously serene expression now one of incandescent disapproval. The antelope prick up their ears. A glimpse of golden pelt in the grass and an explosion of hooves signifies the beginning of the chase. She runs like a demon, head pointed forward and wings outstretched. Long legs kick up turf, spraying it into the streak of gold fur b...