When someone tells me they want to write a novel, but…well, my kind, supportive side wants to hand them a book on writing, to clap and cheer them on, and to believe them. Yes! Go! You can! And then my evil side just wants to roll my eyes and say, “Then sit your butt in the chair and do it.” Honestly, if you want to write, you must stop waiting for the magic moment and for your loved ones to pat you on the head and say they believe in you, and you must give up some tv or something else you think you can’t live without and put your ass in the chair.
Now plenty of people really love words on the page and they have stories in their head and they should be encouraged. But there are those annoying souls who want to have written a book, and they believe that they’ll just sit down and a masterpiece will flow forth, it will be published, and they will be polishing their interview skills for NPR or morning television. Of course, these are the same people who, when I tell them about NaNoWriMo, ask, do you get paid for that? And when I say no, they say, but you get published, right? Happy side says, cut these people some slack. Evil side says, draw blood–my printer is low on ink. Or at least beat them senseless with my manuscript.
If it’s hard for me, god knows my evil side wants it to be hard for everybody else…
Marta Bacon 
“Evil side says, draw blood — my printer is low on ink.”
Dayum, woman, that’s FUNNY! In fact, I love this kick-ass tone from you. It’s an aspect of you I’ve not encountered before.
I see nothing evil about cutting through delusion and being realistic. Evil would be saying, “You’re shit and have nothing to say. Don’t bother.” I don’t hear that in what you write. In fact, what you want to say is actually sharp encouragement: “Then DO IT already!” Maybe it feels evil because you’re exasperated at the infantile lazy thinking, and hell, I think that’s okay to communicate.
People who really want to write will write, because it’s what they do. I think people who say they want to write a novel are expressing a wish to be creative and yet feel totally scared and frozen; it’s so much easier to fantasize about what life would be like after publication and success.
Just a few thoughts.
Actually, I think a lot of thoughts like this, it’s just that I also think I’m supposed to be reasonable and fair-minded as much as possible. But there is a sense of relief whenever I say to hell with that–this is what I’m really thinking before the balance kicks in.
No matter what though, I would never say, “Don’t bother.” I might ask, “Why can’t you bother a little more?” but I find no one listens until they’re ready. And hey, when they’re ready, I’ll cheer them on. Meanwhile, I’ve got a book to write.