so you wanna be a writer?

The truth is, I have always wanted to be a writer.
From the time I was able to write, I wrote novellas and short stories.
In fact, I almost never paid attention in class; because I was constantly scribbling away
in a notebook some sort of poem, or work of fiction.
And even though I got into a bit of trouble over this, overall my teachers were extremely encouraging.

When I graduated from the eighth grade, my literature teacher gave me a journal,
and in the front she wrote, “to Kim, May you always love to write, I look forward to seeing your name on a book cover some day”.
I still have it.

Regardless, over the years I lost track of who I was and what I really wanted to be.
I went to college originally to study medicine, and in the end my heart won.
I ended up with a Bachelor of Arts degree.
(Insert happy parents here)
My last year of college I wrote 29 papers, and I’m talking full 5-10 page essays.
I guess without realizing it, I burned out. I quit writing for three years or so.

One day I woke up in a panic, and that panic followed me for weeks,
leaving me questioning everything in my existence.
Until one morning, I heard a poem recited on a 90′s night-time soap opera.
It was a poem by one Mr. Charles Bukowski.
It struck a chord in me, and I immediately searched for a pen to scribble down his name.
The next time I was in the bookstore, I happened to remember him and rushed over to check him out.

The book I picked up was “Sifting through the Madness for the Word, the Line, and the Way”.

The first poem in that book was entitled, “So you wanna be a writer?”
And well, as you can imagine, it’s been “on” ever since.
I swear it was nothing short of fate the day I picked up that book.

Anyway, I wanted to share it with you. Perhaps to explain,
if nothing else, why this man has inspired me so,
and how he is ultimately responsible for leading me here, to be able to
share my work with so many other talented writers.
For that I am truly grateful.

so you want to be a writer?
by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

~Charles Bukowski