“I feel like I’m drowning,” a friend told me. “The more I try to accomplish the more buckets of stuff get dumped on my head. How the hell is everyone else coping with life?” It’s hard to shake the feeling that everyone is managing to stay afloat while the rest of us gasp for air. I get it. I live in San Francisco where overachieving is the status quo. People
“Are you ready to get torn to shreds?” I was asked. “Um…I think so,” I said. “Good. Then maybe you have a shot of being something.” A marketing expert was offering his editorial ‘guidance,’ aka critique. I’ve been dealing with critique my entire life. From writing workshops to company design reviews to my old cello teacher’s dismay at my Vivaldi renditions, I was always told I could do much better.
Kafka was wrong. He once said that writing is “utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.” If this were true, no one would write because they’d be too busy committing suicide to connect with their keyboard. At some point, you do have to chain yourself to your desk to type out the words that have been marinating in your mind. But that’s not the main part of