Here’s a question for all my fellow writers:
When was the last time you thought about giving up?
Or how about this:
When was the last time you made an ultimatum with yourself? When was the last time you said that if you didn’t achieve X, you were going to throw in the towel?
Did you achieve X?
As any blogger will tell you, it takes a lot to make a blog successful.
You have to offer value. You have to be informative. You have to be a touch unique.
And you have to be consistent.
Your readers need to know what to expect.
And as any blogger will tell you, going completely silent for two months is hands down not a recipe for success.
Only . . . that’s exactly what I did.
It’s happened to you before.
You’re talking to a client, explaining them how to do something, when they cut you off with a, “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. But how about we try it this way.”
You close your eyes, grit your teeth. Outwardly, if you’re talking on the phone—inwardly if in person. As calmly as you can, you explain that you appreciate their input, but you’ve been doing this a long time. You’ve weighed the different options, and the way you’ve suggested is the best one.
Left unsaid—what you really wish you could say—is why on earth are you always stuck dealing with people who know nothing about copywriting.
Every so often, I look back over the last few years and see how far I’ve come.
From the days when I knew nothing about copywriting and just fumbled my way through some early projects without much clue as to what I was doing.
I didn’t get everything wrong in those early days. My instincts were usually correct, and I’ve been writing since I was a kid.
But I did get a lot of it wrong.
And when I think about how I was able to grow so much in such a short period of time, I realize it’s really due to one thing.
A while ago, I wrote my first post on this blog, titled: My Story So Far. The post was about my story as a writer—my successes, my failures, my hopes and my dreams. But there’s another story, one I’ve yet to tell. It’s a story of struggle; a story of despair; a story of hope. It’s a deeply personal story, one that isn’t related only to writing.
I’m sharing that story with you now.
I’m sharing it so that anyone who struggles as I once did might find, here, the strength or inspiration to overcome their struggle.
Close your eyes, for just a moment, and imagine a police officer being sworn in. Perhaps you picture a young man, back stiff and proud, pressed suit and gleaming badge unable to hide the pride in his eyes. Or maybe you see a woman, tough, defiant, determined to buck trends and fight discrimination. An old man, finally fulfilling his dream; a crippled survivor, determined to fight and keep on fighting. The paths of imagination are endless. But there comes a point, in this story, where every single version you can imagine merges and take the same path. The officer steps forward, raises a hand, and repeats an oath. And, though the exact wording may vary slightly, the content is always the same. Because to be a police officer means to answer a calling—the same calling every police officer answers.
To protect and serve.
Which makes me wonder: do we writers have a calling?
The Calling of the Pen and the Pad
Writing this blog post, I kinda feel like one of those characters in a comedy movie—you know, the one who turns up to a party or business event and starts talking about himself, only to see everyone else asking the same question:
“Who is this guy?”
Eli Landes is one of those weird writers who just can't get enough. A marketing writer by day and a fiction writer whenever he can squeeze in the time, he spends his spare time working on his novel, writing short fiction, or daydreaming (I mean, researching). His main genre is Jewish fiction, but he's been known to dabble in the weird, the absurd, and the truly dark.