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Photo by Jason Wong on Unsplash

I’ve Got A Book To Write…

I’m self publishing my first book in a couple of weeks. Should I care how it turns out?

I’m sitting here in my chair at my desk with an unmerciful pain under my right shoulder blade.

It is piercing.

It feels like someone is driving a spike into my back. The pain is running down my arm, through my tricep, into my forearm, culminating in pins and needles in the tips of my fingers.

It’s very uncomfortable but manageable at the moment. Although at times it gets so intense I feel like I’m going to pass out. As I rest my elbows on the desk and type this article I feel it coming in waves.

It seems to get worse as I write. If it were a person I’d punch its face in. That’s how I feel right now.

No, a doctor won’t help. It’s nothing they can detect with their machines. Best I can hope for is that it will pass in a couple of days like it usually does. In the meantime I’ll load up on paracetamol and brufen and keep writing.

Fuck it… I have to finish this book.

I’ve written more in the last couple of months than I have in the prior 10 years put together.

I’m happy about that but I still censor myself. I wonder, should I write this. Who gives a shit? Who gives a shit about what I have to say, the words I have to write?

I’m just another writer trying to make something meaningful for himself and perhaps others. Maybe I should write some of that self help shit that the internet, Medium included, seems to be full of?

You now the stuff, it makes you want to puke.

No. I’ll refrain.

I’ll write this instead. See how it goes down.

At least I can be content that I didn’t simply reproduce someone else’s tripe in a lame attempt to seem like I know something important. Oh, maybe I can find some meaning to this meaningless existence in the process?

No, I’ll go deeper. I’ll write a MANIFESTO instead.

That’s what I’ll do.

I’ll write something that comes from somewhere else, something that is a true reflection on what I seem to be.

Regardless of the reception at least I can be content that I made something that truly reflects what I am.

Pain in my right shoulder, positive reception from the masses or not.

Last year in May I think it was, I began to take my writing a little more seriously.

I had decided to take a job having been previously self employed for 15 years plus. The job didn’t suit me so I began to look for another way.

The truth is I was broke as a pie crust and I only took the job to generate some cash. So it that sense it served a purpose.

Anyway, I was restless.

I wanted a way out.

I needed to satisfy my creative urges and so I revamped my website and began to write again.

What I began writing became The Artist’s Manifesto, a thirty page PDF that outlined my entire creative philosophy for life and work. I published it on my site and since then, that document has gone out to about 1000 people.

Since then I’ve continued to write on the ideas that comprised The Artist’s Manifesto. They have fleshed themselves out in my mind to the point where I felt it was time to pull them all together into a larger piece of work.

The Artist’s Manifesto is almost ready for publication on Amazon and I’m seeking to build a launch team to help me get the word out.

Want to help?

Written by

Writer on Psychology of Creativity, Human Performance, Behaviour & Expertise | Examining Happiness & Work | Slight Perfectionist | larrygmaguire.com/subscribe

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