The Magazine of Yoga

When I have the luxury of doing yoga or taking a walk, I find that my mind becomes free to find stories, to nurture them and to hold onto them.

You have to be patient with yourself, in my experience. You have to be able to both concentrate and to let go.

Writing teaches one to hope, to believe – all one has to do is to trust in the revision process. Just like in life itself.

Failure is an essential part of the creative process. You’re always going to feel like you didn’t completely express yourself. And that’s a good thing.

I don’t believe in inspiration. Like a bell dinging. I believe in sitting in front of my computer and forcing myself to work.

Do not look beyond yourself for validation. Be brave enough to take yourself seriously. I’m a naturally reverent guy, and I think the act of writing is fundamentally an act of meditation.

Making time is a huge part of the discipline. It’s hard to force yourself to do creative work, but if you don’t treat it as a job, it won’t treat you like the boss.

I get out of bed extremely early and write before my kids get up, with a cup of tea, a legal pad, and an old afghan crocheted by my mom.

It isn’t useful to me to think of invention as a well. Wells dry up. You get new ideas when memories, sensations, reading—whatever—connect in unexpected ways.

Every once in a while it’s really important for me to go somewhere, anywhere, and hole up by myself for a few days. These little retreats free me up to be more loose and less linear as a writer.

For me, the beauty in writing comes from the perseverance, in the belief that what I write will get better over time, as long as I keep practicing, and that the practice itself is what I love to do.

“Writing can make you crazy and then it goes on to make you whole.”