Saturday, November 24, 2012

What Do You Want?

I am overweight because I am lazy.  That's all there is to it.  I'm not fat or obese, but I'm carrying more weight than I should and I know it.  I've known it for years.  I've tried to lose it by exercise and diet, but I always slip back into old habits.  I've tried to rationalize it by telling myself that I'm too busy or that there must be something wrong with me medically, but the fact of the matter is that I am lazy.

I enjoy coming home after work and relaxing.  I don't want to go running after I've spent all day at work.  Even though I enjoy running and I always like the way it makes me feel, I'd rather put my feet up on the couch and relax.

If I want to lose weight, I can do it easily through diet and exercise. Instead of watching TV, I could run.  Instead of ordering that pizza, I could eat a salad.  I simply choose not to, no matter what I say to the contrary.  

Writing is like that.  If you want to do it badly enough, you'll do it.  The excuses are just that:  excuses.  I have it easy compared to some.  I wake up at 6:30am and write before work at 9am.  I know writers who wake up at 4am because they have babies and have to write before their squalling milk leeches1 wake up.  Other friends work two jobs and have to write on lunch breaks and late at night.  We trade sleep for writing time, family time for writing time.  If we want it badly enough, there is nothing that will stop us.

Everything we do in life is a compromise.  It all breaks down to how badly you want it.  Do you want to write a book?  Do you really want to write a book?  Do you want it more than you want to watch reruns of The Big Bang Theory?  Do you want it more than you want that extra hour of sleep? 

How bad do you want it?

Because if you don't want it bad enough, if you're not willing to make sacrifices for it, then you're kidding yourself.

I'm overweight because I'm lazy, but I'm a writer because I'm not.

1. I'm sure your kids are cute, but really, aren't they all poop-making squalling milk leeches at that age? It's nothing personal.

1 comment:

  1. I work an average of 50 hours a week. I have two kids (they're big, so they're not poop factories anymore). I have a dog. I have two cats. I own a home.

    Basically, I have a lot of responsibilities, and yet I still manage to write manuscripts at a rate of about one per year, and still have time for TV and games occasionally.

    I even used to go to the gym, back when work only needed me for 40 hours.

    Sigh. I blame whoever decided how fast the earth should rotate.


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