Penmonkey’s Creed (from Wendig)

Because, Wendig. Context, the originating post touches on fear vs writing the story you want to write (no matter how weird). Seriously, it’s worth reading.

I’ll admit, while reading the post, I kept thinking of the snippet of his night talk that I caught last June (at the Seton Hill residency), where he advised “Care less.” Live – write – for yourself, for the moment, not for things beyond your control…at least, while getting the story down. (DO consider them during revision.)

The Penmonkey’s Creed

This is my book. There are none like it, because this one is mine.

My book is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.

My book, without me, is useless. Without my book, I am useless. I must write my tale true. I must shoot straighter than my fear who is trying to kill me. I must kill my fear before my fear kills my story.

My book and I know that what counts is not what others have done, what sales we make, what tweets I have twotted. We know that it is my heart that counts. 

My book is a living document, because it is my life. I will learn it as it is my kin. I will learn its weaknesses, its strengths, its characters and plots and themes. I will put my heartsblood into the book and it will put its heartsblood into me as we become part of each other.

Before the Muse that I have shackled to the radiator in my office, I swear this creed. My book and I are the representatives of who I am. We are the masters of our fear. We are the ink-stained fools who press our fingerprints into the page for all to see. We are story and story-teller, one and the same. We are the gods of this place.

So be it, until victory is mine and I have finished my shit — fuck yeah and amen.

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