Yesterday I was shaving, and I looked up in the mirror to see that my inner self had showed up, and it was immediately obvious that he had something on his mind.
Me: What do you want?
IS: I thought you wanted to be a writer?
Me: Oh man, not this again. I am a writer; I've written two self published novels, I've outlined a third, and I'm working on a book of short stories.
IS: What have you written lately?
Me: Not a damn word.
IS: Why not?
Me: You go to hell; I don't have time for this.
IS: Answer the question.
Me: Look, I just haven't, OK? I've got plenty of stuff started, but just haven't sat down and written anything new. Happy? You think I'm happy about that? I'm not; I'm just having a hard time getting motivated.
IS: <Snorts in disgust> You're a pathetic excuse for a writer. If you want to be considered a writer, you have to write!
Me: Well, I've been busy. We just moved into this house a couple of months ago, and it's just taken awhile to get things sorted out.
IS: Lame excuse.
Me: Look, writing is a process; you know this. You can't just jump into it and crank out five thousand words. There's a measure of inspiration and motivation that needs to be there.
IS: Bullshit! Why don't you at least try to get your two books published?
Me: I've tried. The mainstream publishing industry doesn't appreciate my work.
IS: What's not to get? Your "work" is a collection of ninety five thousand words of rubbish. I'll be you can't even describe it.
Me: Well, it's sort of Texas post-modern fiction with southwest and Mexican influences.
IS: Oh my God, "Texas post-modern fiction with southwest and Mexican influences?" What does that even mean? You don't even know what kind of fiction you're trying to write!
Me: No one ever said that writing is easy.
IS: Being easy has nothing to do with it. Either write, or try to get published what you have already written!
Me: Hey, back off! I am a successful writer; my stuff has sold in the high single digits!
IS: <fading from view> What a loser.
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