On the Writers That Inspire Us

There are some writers that make you furious.

Not because of what they write, but because of how well they write. 

They have an air of nonchalance about it. A fearlessness. 

But that's not what strikes you at first.

What humbles you is how effortless they make it look.

It makes you feel like you could work for decades, but you'll retire with less skill than they had when they began. Like you're never going to measure up. 

And that makes you even more livid. 

You rail against the injustice of being less talented. Want to give up the trade. Why even bother?

You imitate them, thinking that some of the brilliance will rub off.

You steal from them, hoping no one will notice.

People will tell you that you write well enough. What a crock. You want to know what it takes to be that good. It eats at you. 

What would you know of the quiet years they've spent at the altar of creativity? You know nothing of the sacrifices offered there, or the candles burned there in the dark. While you slept.

There must have been pain. Struggle. Heartbreak. Crippling self-doubt.

One does not earn mastery without making accommodations with these dark gods.

They wrote for the job. Wrote when it wasn’t. They wrote when it hurt. When the words didn’t come. They beat at it. Tore at it. Carved out their place in the pantheon with tooth and nail.

They worked bloody hard to make it look so easy. 

They battled for inspiration, just like you do. 

Because inspiration isn't always a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds. It isn't like throwing open the curtains in the morning. 

Sometimes the muse is sheer envy. The burning desire to rise to that level. 

So, you study the greats. 

You learn from them. You take from them.

One day, when you've given enough, you may even become them.