Write For Nothing at All
Write.
Write for nothing at all.
Write without special offers, without a schedule. For horizons past and future, and the words left unsaid.
Write for yourself, to make sense of the madness, to forget about Pampers, dishwasher pods, and the absurd world around you.
Write for rage, to let it all out, to transcend it, to shape it into something greater—something tangible, something that makes sense.
Write for the dreams, to protect them and let them grow. To save them from dying.
Write for nothing at all.
Forget about money for a while, don’t tie writing to it, let it fly free. Remember why you do this.
Write for love—for what you have and what you'll never. Write to celebrate the line in between.
Write for the seasons still left to you, for the infinite universe, for that flame inside of you that refuses to be extinguished.
Write about the injustice, the monstrous stupidity and inequalities.
Write for anything you want, for nothing at all.
Stop with the methods, the growth, the strategies. Write to bare your soul for all to see.
Show who you really are, don’t hide anything. Let it all out, come what may.
Write for the child that you were, for the dreams that remain, for tomorrow.
Write to remind yourself to write, and why you do it.
Write for all that is fragile and beautiful, and never let it die.
Write for nothing at all.
Write.
Well said -- and well written.
“All creative work is mystical. How dare they demystify it? How dare they think they can demystify it? Especially when they can’t write. How arrogant it is to assume that you know the market, that you know what’s popular today. Only Steven Spielberg knows what’s popular today. So leave it to him. He’s the only one in the history of man who has ever figured that out.” John Milius