You’ve got a million to-do lists, don’t you? You’re drowning under them, aren’t you? You hope one day they’ll get shorter, only they keep getting longer and longer, and there seems to be no end in sight as every day more and more tasks gets added to it.

So how about instead of writing yet another to-do list, you write a stop-doing list?

What is it that makes you happy? 

It could be something very simple, like eating breakfast from your favorite plate. Or counting steps on your way to work. Or listening to the same song over and over again, despite everyone rolling their eyes at you and telling you, “Aren’t you sick of it?”

Writing, in many ways, is that one thing that makes you happy. 

Or a raven who won't let anyone hurt her young. Or a bear. Or a snake. Or any fierce animal or bird that you can imagine yourself to be, every day—every hour of the day—when life comes at you in the shape of people and their demands and interruptions, and you put up a barrier, not letting them through and protecting your space where you can create as if you were protecting the life of your children.

So many of us artists struggle with this. 

Often we come to making art through wanting to somehow get rid of our pain. Instead of destroying we choose to create.

What will you do today to get you closer to where you want to be? Get that book written? Published? Read?

Your life is ending by the minute, and the illusion that you'll do it someday...one day...later...is exactly that. An illusion.

What if your book was published anonymously, without your name on the cover?

What if you never got to know how many people have read your book?

What if you had no idea how many of your books have sold?

If any of the above were true, would it change the reason why you write? Would it make you stop, or would it not make a difference?