Writing is an act of faith. When an accountant sits down at her desk to work, she does. When a bank teller sits at the bank counter to work, he does. When a writer sits down at their desk or lays in the grass or slouches in a crowded subway to write, they might.
Telling yourself to write something is about equivalent to telling yourself to lose five pounds in the sense that, while you know it’s really something you ought to do, there’s a sizable chance you’ll get distracted on Facebook.
And all hail the people that make writing their only source of income. You want to see an act of faith? Find a new writer who’s trying to get by on freelance jobs. THAT is an act of faith. That requires trusting the muse that sits over your shoulder enough to put the fate of your rent and the contents of your ever-emptying fridge into their hands.
To write with feeling and passion is an art, as well as a craft. No matter how much schooling your brain receives, your writing ultimately depends on if you were meant to write. Accountants are not born accountants, but writers are born writers. To trust in that requires an act of faith so large it really just doesn’t fit on a page.
So when you feel that tingly sensation in your soul to spread your thoughts using the written word, think to yourself, “Am I ready to take that leap of faith?”