The Bitter Price

Everybody who’s enjoyed some kind of success and Oprah will tell you that you can be great. That you are unique, special, fantastic, phenomenal…
But there’s a trap. It’s quite obvious, actually. As most things in life are.

You CAN be great.

You can.

Whether you will or not, it’s an entirely different question.

Because, you see, the real thing is this: it’s not about what you stand to gain if you do something, but what levels of suffering you are willing to endure.

It’s not about having a six pack and getting all kinds of reactions from people. It’s about enjoying the workouts, the diet, the soreness, all that…

You know the suffering of writers?

First, if you want to write about anything worth reading, you’ve got to sell your heart. You know, write about those things that hurt, the ones you kind of don’t even want to tell your priest or your therapist or your closest friend.

Those kind of things.

The thoughts you wish you never had, the past you wish you could forget…

You write about that.

It is the most difficult thing you can use words for.

But you do it. Because you have to. Because you need to.
And if that wasn’t enough, you might never gain anything for doing this.

Not money, not fame, not glory, not even a thank you.

It isn’t fair, you say?

It never is.

No one promised fair.

It’s just how it is.

You write from the heart because you enjoy the pain of being a writer.

Because tears turn into words.

Not gold.

But words.

And sometimes tears turn into words that matter to someone else.

And this makes them worth more than all the gold in the world.