I met a guy at a writer’s conference who only wrote in suburban Marriott bars. He was jaded, sad, tragic, frustrated with the poverty, oppression and generally suckiness of being a writer. Of course, I loved him. He was drunk. He couldn’t pitch his book. He loved his story. I might have been talking in the mirror. Except for the drunk part. None for me, thanks, I’m driving. Sober as a judge.

I’m in the bar at a Hilton in Toledo, Ohio, and I want to warn you all of the tragedy, frustration, and general suckiness of squandering time. Last night, we got done early from the software installation at a local hospital. I had hours to write, and write, and write. I have a lot to do. I have stuff to read for my critique group. I have stuff to read for friends. I have stuff to do. Being writer means having homework for the rest of your life. I think Lawrence Kasdan said that. He wrote The Empire Strikes Back. Oh yeah.

But did I write, and read, and do my homework? No.

Stay with me. I’m about to jump. Like in Battlestar Galactica. JUMP! Back in 1998. I was thirteen years younger. Late twenties. I was just married. I was flirting with the idea of writing for reals. Just flirting. Nothing serious. I was too scared for serious. I was terrified of serious. And one Sunday, I watched the movie Curley Sue. I was in that tragic state of wanting to do something, but not being motivated to do anything. I knew I didn’t want to watch Curley Sue. But I couldn’t move. John Hughes had me spellbound. I was trapped. Like a rat. Like a writer at a suburban hotel chain, in the bar, writing books no one would ever read.

Life is too short for watching movies you don’t really want to watch. Life is too short to avoid doing the things that bring life and power to ourselves and others. Life is not about hiding in ice cream and TV. Life is about doing the hard things that task us. Like from Star Trek II, it tasks me, it tasks me.

So last night, I Curley Sue’d. I watched Monday Night Football. It was tragic. I did feel manly, and the game was good, but it was still Curley Sueing.

And so, tonight, we stayed late at the hospital. There were bugs that needed to be stepped on. We got as many as we could, but here it is, late, and we have to be there early tomorrow morning. I blew it. But I’ll get my homework done, well, the little piece I can, and I’ll be a little light on sleep, and I’ll regret the hours I squandered when I had the time.

Do you know what the trick is? It’s to put writing first. Yesterday, I went up to my room, thinking I would write later. Later will never come. So tonight after dinner, I headed for the bar. I’m drinking de-caf coffee. It’s very fine. But I’m doing my writing first. Because writing will never happen later. Other things will happen later, but not writing. Writing will only ever happen right now.

I love de-caf coffee. Not manly, but it beats Curley Sueing myself out of life.