This one’s for you.
Your inbox is full of ego-rattling rejection emails, but you’re emailing ten more literary agents today. Because nobody will discover you unless you make yourself discoverable.
Your sneakers are battered from 7am jogging sessions through icy rain and sleet and muck and mud. Because those miles aren’t going to run themselves.
Your podcast has exactly three fans (and two are your parents) but you’re posting a new episode every single week, nonetheless. Because everyone’s got to start somewhere.
Your heart is aching after your 100th audition for yet another role that you didn’t get. Tomorrow you’ll do it all over again. Because this is the art that you’ve chosen to make.
You’re not afraid of the hard, slow, tedious, and (sometimes) anxiety-soaked work that you’ve got to do. You’re not searching for shortcuts. You’ve committed to a marathon and you’re going to see it through. The training. The rehearsal. The revisions. The early mornings. The late nights. The 10,000 hours of practice that nobody ever sees, knows about, or applauds. The tough grunt-work that you never get an “award” for. The stuff that happens at 11:49pm in your home office in your stained yoga pants. You show up for it. You’re here for it. All of it.
You won’t quit on yourself. You won’t break your own heart. Your strategies may change through the years, but you’ll never stop trying.
If that’s you — the hard worker, the un-complainer, the tenacious warrior, grinding and slogging and striving to create something beautiful in this world — I see you and I think (no, not think, I know) that you’re fucking amazing.
I hope you know it, too.
And I hope you never give up.