You have an idea. A thought that thrills. You want to write a book. Give up the dream of being a published author. Let go the hopes of notoriety, of money, of telling highbrow conferences you’re already booked. Forget that you ever wanted to be popular. But you use those petty desires to start your novel. You call on your imagination to piece together sounds which form words to convey ideas from your consciousness. You heed advice and write a blog. Another human being underst

“Hey, Fear,” I say as I sit down to work on a new project. “You’ve been working out at the gym again, I see.” “You know, I don’t care to be here. I show up only because you want me. I'd rather be watching videos.” I take my hands off my keyboard. “Really. I invite you? No offense, but I really could use some peace. This is a big project, and people are depending on me to be world class. Things are backing up, and frankly, my career as a writer depends on what happens next. So

New Year’s resolutions and toddlers—cute, but better when they belong to someone else. This year, there’s one resolution I’m focused on, and that’s finding my invisible culture so that I have permission to be obsessive about my writing. What does that mean? Invisible culture: The intangible aspects of a group setting that reinforces good or bad behavior, not always through explicitly written rules, but through codes of conduct that a newcomer would need to interpret and learn