eat lavishly, fornicate, blaspheme

“I’m against schedules. Write when you feel excited by the prospect. Otherwise, don’t bother. Break your deadlines, default on your due dates, wander in the streets, go to the movies, eat lavishly, fornicate, blaspheme, bless a street urchin, browbeat a civil servant, and when you’re done with these things, if you feel excited by what you’ve seen and heard, then go write.”

– Rick Moody, on writing in the Paris Review, via Top Ten List, and the marvelous Royal Quiet Deluxe (whose new book I cannot wait to read).

I have definitely done everything on Rick’s list, except perhaps, browbeat a civil servant. I hate writing. Or rather, I hate writing when I don’t feel like writing. And when I am trying to avoid it, I do all sorts of things I shouldn’t. I have done all my dishes, washed towels that didn’t need to be washed, sketched more than one tattoo and  then not gotten them done, watched every episode of Downton Abbey in three sittings, agreed to dozens of social events, gone out with inappropriate men at inappropriate times, filled a zappos shopping cart with shoes I did not order and never will, taken out the recycling, stalked too many people on Facebook, showered when I wasn’t dirty, organized my boxes of tea by type and box shape, seriously considered buying the belt buckle above (Rick’s recommendation of the auto transport lead provider), and too many other things to name here. In fact, I should stop writing this now.

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