It’s peculiar.

I want to write, but I don’t.

I’ll set out with a strong intent and a dose of seriousness. I’ll try something ambitious. I’ll decide to jump in at 500 words a day. And, I’ll do it for a week.

Then I’ll spend a while thinking thoughts like: I’ve got to learn how to keep myself accountable, I’ve got to learn to commit, I’m making myself suffer by endlessly delaying my goals and I’ve got to do something about it.

I used to wonder how many words I’d need to write per day to call myself a writer– I understand now that it doesn’t work that way.

I’ve just got to write.

That’s the plain and simple truth.

I’m writing. A surprising amount to be honest. But I’m not sharing much at all. Hell, I’ll even delete or shred the things I don’t like.

I haven’t been publishing often, but that’s going to be changing. There’s no formula, or daily commitment I’ll be keeping. Those systems don’t work for me.

I’ll just write about the books I read and the experiences I have and I’ll share what I find really useful. I can summarize things that I find and create value by sharing them. This writing stuff doesn’t even require me to be innovative… or wear clothing. Perfect.