She didn't break she contact, not even when my gaze shifted away nervously the way it sometimes does when I'm being vulnerable or when I paused to poke at my sausage, mushroom egg scramble more than once.
"And I know it sounds crazy," I continued. "But I'm intimidated by it. It seems so big, so huge to write something worth reading. I'm so uninspired. You can't force art right? I want to do it and yet I lack motivation. Is that possible?"
She thought for a second. "I read a good quote that said habit is more important than motivation. Sometimes you just have to get yourself in the discipline of doing it whether or not you feel inspired. Look at Tupac. Do you know how many songs he had that were never released?"
"Or Michael Jackson," I chimed in. "They just released a whole album off old stuff that never made it out of the studio."
"Right," she agreed, nodding. "Just hone your craft. Write every day, no matter what. Even if you don't feel like writing, write that. And when you write something great, you'll know it."
My eyes met hers long enough for me accept the weight of her wise counsel. And for the first time in a long time, I was hopeful.
