Choose to become a writer.

Choose head smashing on the keyboard over and over and over.

Choose to edit that first chapter 64 times, and the last chapter once.

Choose to drink 14 cups of tea.

Choose to do ALL of the chores before you could possibly write.

Choose a massive fucking television with all the channels to procrastinate.

Choose a 99% chance of rejection after writing it for 9 months. Or 3 years.

Choose to lead a completely unhealthy life devoid of all exercise and sunlight.

Choose to become a vampire.

Choose to never meet your 5-a-day fruit and veg recommendation.

Choose to always make your 5-a-day glasses of wine.

Choose making a three course meal when you should be writing, and pretend to be a hero to your family.

Choose changing the background colour and font types and sizes.

Choose scrolling through Twitter 23 times a day.

Choose pretending to go to the gym to escape that blank screen.

Choose to avoid the 12 year curse of the flashing cursor.

Choose to research ALL the agents, even if they don’t represent disco, historical sci-fi.

Choose to never take off the joggers.

Choose to drink too much coffee and visit the bathroom more than your gran.

Choose to read a book, any book, even the free Metro, rather than write.

Choose to read book on how to write.

Choose to read blogs on how NOT to write.

Choose to follow good writers on social media in the hope of some kind of magical, ethereal diffusion of ability.

Choose to daydream about winning the Costa…or just paying for one down the street.

Choose to tidy up your writing desk for the 7th time in 3 days.

Choose to browse for more books online even though you have a TBR pile higher than Everest.

Choose to become bitter and jealous watching peers become overnight successes.

Choose a life of solitude, as a lonely, old hermit.

Choose being 40 and still not telling the difference between affect and effect.

Choose daily self-flagellation.

Choose to measure your self-worth via your word count.

Choose receiving feedback and swearing angrily at the computer.

Choose a shit wage, with no certainty of earnings.

Choose to spend every waking moment thinking about how to be horrible to your characters.

Choose to promise that tomorrow will be the day you start.

Choose to live a life that is sub-optimal for human health.

Choose to prefer fictional characters to your real friends.

Choose to never be understood by the non-writers in your life.

Choose not to become a writer. Choose life.

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