Write? Right!
Permission Granted, Chris T.
Discipline was never my long suit. Or maybe that’s a lie I tell myself. A cursory examination of the evidence shows I’m disciplined about some things. Like the two newsletters I put out each week. But those are done for an audience and I’m compelled to keep producing them or lose yet another constituency. In the past eight years I lost the WFMU, SiriusXM, Mermaid Parade and Waitstock audiences (two weren’t my doing but sting the same). Is it all ego, the only part underfed in my youth? This need for understanding, acknowledgement, appreciation: is it rooted in a childhood lacking all three?
Duh.
Which brings me to the NIHILISTIC book. It’s about my childhood and for my next constituency but I’ve dragged my feet, generating rationales for why conditions aren’t quite right to dive in:
Too many distractions at home: I need a dedicated writing space.
What if no one else gives a shit and it’s an utter waste of effort?
Prioritizing NIHILISTIC pushes other items down the to-do list.
Having just finished 4000 Weeks: Time Management For Mortals (highly recommended), I agree with author Oliver Burkeman: most to-do lists are bullshit and my rationales are well-honed excuses for procrastinating with the same root: fear I don’t have the talent to pull it off. 4000 Weeks argues Of course it’ll be subpar and you won’t be happy with the results. Do it anyway. The universe doesn’t care you exist. Let this insignificance free you.
The sentiment may seem trite but hit me between the eyes, eradicating the hobbling expectation This has to be the greatest genre memoir ever written!
Call it my Permission Granted moment.
NIHILISTIC won’t be the best “back in the day” punk rock/hardcore book you’ll read but it’ll be the best one I can write.
Now, to get to work.
Hear Nihilistics, 1984, CBGB here.