I would like to teach you how to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Or, whatever your equivalent of that is. Maybe it's surviving finals week, perhaps paying bills, or finishing a to-do list. Whatever it is that makes you feel as though you won't survive until tomorrow, because it's all just too much, and there is no way you can make it to the end.
I have learned that the hardest part about writing is the act of writing. You can sit there and stare at the empty page and say that you tried, but until you transfer words from your brain to the page, all you have done is despair.
When you say you can’t, all you're thinking about is the end — but you’re too ambitious. You can’t just disapparate to the finish line because you wouldn’t have actually run the race. The first step is — literally — the first step. And in writing, the first word is literally the first word.
How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time*.
When taking a class at school, you don’t do all the assignments at once. The deadlines are spread out, so you can race to finish five assignments the night before, instead of ten. And, even then, you can’t do it all at once. Maybe four at once — after all, you have two hands and two feet — as long as you can be ambidextrous.
You live life one second at a time. Jumping ahead in time is called time travel, and at this point, it is impossible.
In decorating a Christmas tree, you place one ornament on at a time —you don’t just dump the box out over the tree and hope they stick.
When you brush your teeth, you do it one stroke at a time — you don’t slap your face with the toothbrush as though it were a magic wand, and suddenly you’re clean.
Popcorn. Popcorn pops one kernel at a time. If it popped all at once, it would take out the fun of making popcorn. It also might take out the microwave.
Firework shows are done one firework at a time. Sometimes they’re accidentally lit off all at once, and what results is 30 seconds of ‘agh!’. You might as well light your local bank on fire.
How do you find your keys? Look one place at a time, and be comforted in knowing they will always be in the last place you look, because once you find them, you stop looking.
You know, I think you get the idea. You understand what I’m saying, yeah? Say it with me — ‘one at a time’. Whatever it is you’re panicking about, take a deep breath—if that freaks you out, remember you have to take one breath at a time. Breathing breaths all at once would probably start a hurricane.
Write it down, if you have to, because in the panic of a moment, it’s easy to forget that sometimes things are easier than you think they will be.
*No elephants were harmed in the writing of this article.
