“Would you like to go climbing?” he asked.
“Climbing? Like, rock climbing?” I said. “I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you.”
17 years ago (ish) I met the most handsome guy and we became friends.
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When I was at school, I didn’t really have friends. I had a stamp collection.
I hovered on the periphery like a weird little moth, waiting to be invited in — to parties, to sports teams, to life.
The library was my playground and I ate most of my lunches there...
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I was on the brink of signing up to yet another thing this morning, despite wanting — NEEDING — to create space to breathe.
Why do I do this?
It’s interesting, and I think the reason is twofold:
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Hitting publish on your book is a bit like walking through a wasp convention covered in jam holding a sign that says “please don’t hurt me!”
They say writing a book is brave, and it is…
But SHARING it is the real hero move when it FEELS like 90% of the internet is screaming abuse into the void like it’s an Olympic sport.
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“Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
If you’re American, you’ll know these words well — from the Declaration of Independence, drafted by Thomas Jefferson.
And if you’re not American, the pursuit of happiness will probably be fairly familiar to you, because it’s embedded in our culture.
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moxie (noun): energy, pep; courage, determination; know-how.
I named my business Moxie Books because it does indeed take energy, pep, courage, determination, and expertise to write a book.
Also Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent. IYKYK.
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The Internet: Wow Stephen King wrote SO MUCH during his early career. That just proves you have to have a passion and follow your dreams and you can do it too.
Stephen King: It was cocaine and booze. I don’t even remember writing Cujo.
Look. It’s really easy to gaze at successful authors and wonder, “How did they do it?” and assume that whatever worked for them, will work for you.
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If a frog eats you alive, don’t just sit there and get digested, like a wimp.
Pick yourself up and start walking.
I’m fully serious.
There’s a species of Japanese water beetle called Regimbartia attenuata — we’re going to call it Reg — that is the natural prey of frogs.
Reg is small, only 4-5mm, so the frogs swallow them whole as a tasty treat.
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Ten minutes before I did this cool move, I faffed for five minutes, telling myself the stupid story that I CAN’T DO THIS, IT’S TOO SCARY.
(It’s a ham* spring, btw, in case you’re not familiar with gymnastics vernacular).
Funnily enough, before that triumph, I had never tried to do the thing, so how on earth did I know that I wouldn’t be able to do it?
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What most people get wrong about writing a book is the idea that every book has to be a massive book, and it doesn’t.
It can be a MicroBook. Under 100 pages, maybe 15k to 25,000 words.
The traditional publishing industry has decreed that there are conventions for how long a book needs to be.
It doesn’t have to be any particular length.
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I’ve had a couple of weeks off social media and lordy LORD has it felt good.
For one thing, I feel more like a proper writer again… which is weird considering I’ve done very little actual writing, other than idly planning out a MicroBook called A Short History of Googly Eyes.
Whenever I’m on LinkedIn or wherever, something always pops up to make me feel like shite.
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In 410BC, on a warm Tuesday evening at approx 9.15 pm, Socrates’s wife Xanthippe slapped an empty dinner plate down in front of him.
Xanthippe had had enough. She ran the household and raised his kids, and Socrates… well, Socrates refused to bathe or trim his beard, and spent his days loafing around talking shit with his bros.
