Iterate. Try Again.

What is it you need to quit?

Piles of my notebooks and notes. This is from ten years ago, but it’s no different now.

Whenever writers exhort one another, “Don’t quit! Don’t give up! The only way to fail is to stop trying!”—I’ve always given it a bit of inner side-eye. First of all because I’m a contrarian, and I just don’t like being told what to do. I’ll give up if I damn well want to, thank you very much. But more because I’ve always thought, if you can quit, if you want to quit, then go ahead. Why should I tell you not to? Any artistic pursuit is done with little hope of remuneration or prestige, so why the fuck do it if you really just want to quit? It doesn’t pay the bills. Doesn’t provide health insurance. Doesn’t ingratiate you with your family. Is an expenditure of energy and time that is nearly impossible to explain to almost anyone who hasn’t drunk the Kool-Aid themselves. You want to quit? Go ahead. Maybe it isn’t your thing. Maybe there’s another art form that calls to you, or you want to through-hike …