Dare To Write What You Really Want

Writing with a head cold provides one with an interesting opportunity. It’s hard to breathe. My head feels like it’s filled with hot, viscous fluid. I ply myself with medications and concoctions. And while I’m fighting the illness, the part of me that is sensible and guarded and typically keeps a close eye on my writing is occupied with simply keeping me upright and somewhat coherent.

That’s a excellent time make bold plans. It’s easier to slip things past the internal censor.

I did just that this past week. I wrote what some might call a manifesto. It’s not ready for others to see yet, but it’s bold, big, daring, and scary as hell. The sensible me knows I’ve been thinking about this for years and has kept mostly quite about it, but he’s occupied, so I’ve slipped it out and made it real.

It feels great. I highly recommend it.

You might do the same thing. I dare you, all of you who call yourself writers, those who write little, sensible things, but dream of the big, frightening things. Put those big thing on paper. Read them out loud. Get it out there in front of you.

You can decide later if you will tell anyone else your mad plans. Later is fine. But do not restrain to yourself any longer.

I dare you.

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