Become A Professional Writer

I am amazed by professional hockey players. Of course you think I mean their ability to keep their balance but this is only part of what keeps me in awe. What captures me most is that for all but one month of the year they fill their days with routines of diet, exercise and discipline to be prepared for game time.

Nicklas Lidstrom former Detroit Redwings Captain
Nicklas Lidstrom former Detroit Red Wings Captain

This makes me think of my goal – to be a writer. I want to be a published novelist and I am waiting to hear back from an editor as I write this. But I do not have a routine. My writing time is not consistence and while I do my best to find that time each day, I still struggle with consistency and it shows in many places, especially here on my blog.

So, I have a question for you writer. How are you becoming a professional writer? How are you getting your writing time in, educating yourself and progressing? Books on writing speak of a thousand ways to improve and hundreds of things to consider when putting a book together. But they all settle on one main ingredient that is essential to becoming a novelist – showing up and doing so with consistency.

Today my alarm went off at 5:15am. I decided it was time to create “office hours” for myself to make sure I have writing time every day. I might make this earlier if needed, but I realize the importance of routine. Writing is hard work. Good writing even more so. I think it’s time we roll up our sleeves and get to work.

How about you?

Have you recently made a new dedication to the craft?

Do you need to?

There is no right time.

Start now.

Start today.



My Life: A Game of Stitches

While I was young I spent a lot of time outdoors. This meant I got dirty, a lot. Not just your average run of the mill grass stains on the knee area of your jeans dirty. More like, hey look mom! I jumped into a pile of what we thought was dirt but was manure, dirty.

I and my two brothers, Chris and Bryan (we call him Moe) were always trying something  new which meant one of us would be hospitalized or injured for at least a day. We’d say things like ‘I bet we could jump over that!’ or ‘how about we sled off the roof!’ and ‘let’s cut some branches out of that tree so we can climb higher to jump down onto the trampoline’.

Other activities included ‘one pump’ bee-bee gun wars (without eye protection, yes what were we thinking!) and shooting bottle rockets at each other leaving black burns and small fires all over our yard and occasionally our pants.

Behind my parents house is a field that rotates corn and soybeans. Behind that is a pond. So, as our neighborhood was filled with boys, one winter we decided to play ice hockey.

Now, when a group of boys gets together things tend to get a little violent, especially if parents aren’t around.  So we didn’t just play hockey. We called it ‘full contact’ Ice hockey. What did this mean? Well after about six games four of us were in stitches, and one boy who begged his father to let him come (I think his dad was an English teacher and he was familiar with Lord of the Flies) was sent home with a long gash down his nose.

That was the end of full contact ice hockey. We still played roller hockey in the summer and we would go back and skate occasionally but that was the one of the few times the reality of life set in and we all realized that we could get hurt. That is, until the next boy said, ‘Hey I have my license. Why don’t we pull you on a skateboard behind my car!’