Invariably, during every cooking show my mom watches she tells the professional on the screen you shouldn’t crack the eggs right into the dish you’re preparing; what if one of the eggs is bad? You just ruined the whole thing!
Oh, and when you’re done washing the dishes and wiping the table, rinse the dish cloth in cold water. Prevents germs from growing so it doesn’t start to stink.
My mom grew up in a home and a time when eggs could be dodgy and when laundry was done weekly, not daily (or more.)
Those TV chefs? They probably use hand-selected organic custom eggs from their private stock.
The dishcloth? Own 7. Wash in bleach. No smell.
Here are some writing questions I see all the time:
- How can I find time for my writing?
- I have so many ideas. Which should I choose?
- What if I write a book and no one buys it?
- What if I write a book and it’s no good?
- Should I use Scrivener? Or Word? Or a calligraphy pen?
- Will you just write it for me?
Those are the wrong questions. I made up some of the details. But the feelings are all real.
Here’s the question those questions are masking:
What if I fail?
All the questions we use to prevent ourselves from starting are so we don’t have to experience those things at the other end. And those things at the other end? They’re all words that mean “failure.”
That’s the question: what if I fail?
The answer is, those who dare greatly have already succeeded.
Dare greatly by writing your book, and the quality will be higher than you expect. Sales won’t matter, because whether they’re few or many, you’ll know you’ve done something worthy. You’ll skip over all those fussy questions about mechanics.
Dare greatly, and you succeed.
Even if you fail.