Morning

Then something fucking great happens...

I've mentioned my boss before. Derek Kelly, one of my favourite people in the world. When he talks, most of the time I'm too much in awe of him to say anything. I sit thinking instead. I think like a bastard. I just wish I could say a few more words so when he tells me stuff he understands that I'm listening, soaking this stuff up. Not bullshitting.

I mentioned a few posts ago how I started at Gutshot after Derek gave me a life changing speech on the streets of Dublin outside the Merrion Casino. "The Rolling Stone" speech. Well, he managed to give me another tonight, just when I needed it. It was exactly what I wanted to hear, said in a kick your ass way. No bullshit, just the truth. He knew what I was thinking and told me it straight. And when you hear someone telling you to do what you've been wanting to do then all caution disappears. It's nearly 6am and I'm awake. No tiredness anymore. I want to stay up and write all day.

You have to find a voice, and I think I know what mine is, I've just been afraid to use it. I know what I want to write but I shy away from it and keep it distant. I don't want to be average - that thought has kept me awake for the last 17 years. And if this has to be hack work a lot of the time, then fuck it, it doesn't need to be mediocre.

So I started out tonight worrying about my stuff. Now I could easily burn the lot and get started on what I want to do next. It's not far off, just a few steps towards a risk than I've been afraid to go towards before. No more just getting it done. I'm going to hand carve the fuckers with my finger nails.

And failing miserably might not even be bad. But I'm not going to fail. I want to write on full speed now, no air bags. Rip out the breaks, use the seatbelt to tie my leg to the accelerator, and put my foot down.

It's daylight again. Going to get started.