Angry face emoji on card held up in front of brick wall

Choose Rage

Choose rage. Choose a tantrum. Choose a fucking big shouty rant.

(^^ You need to read the above in a strong Glasweigian accent à la Trainspotting for the full effect.)

Because in a world of “positive vibes only,” scented candles, and a monomaniacal focus on finding the bloody joy in every shitty thing that happens, sheer incandescent rage can be quite the fun ride.

No, really.

I’m a practitioner of daily gratitude. I’m an irrepressible optimist who, in the face of all the evidence, is gonna make it all turn out okay. And I WANT more joy in my life.

But also?

There’s a lot to be said for rage. When channelled appropriately (instead of stabbily), rage gets shit done.

Especially when we’re faced with the blank page and we’re desperately trying to get our books written and NOT A GODDAM WORD IS COMING OUT.

So all that positive woo-woo airy-fairy nicey-nicey gubbins you’ve tried in order to squeeze words out? Ditch it for a day.

Try this instead.

CHOOSE VIOLENCE.

Choose to embrace your rage and then let it spill out of your brain and down your arms and onto that blank sheet of paper.

If you have an idea for your book and it just won’t come, like when you’re nervous and your bladder lies to you and tells you that you need a wee, and you can kind of feel the wee there but nothing comes out?

Time to get angry.

Here are some options:

Rage at the blank page itself, stupid white paper looking all clean like an idiot.
Fury at your own brain for refusing to distil your magnificent idea onto said page.
Incandescence at the general state of the world right now.
Anger at something relating to your book topic—maybe poor practice in your industry, or something really bloody annoying other people do.
Irritation at all the things you’ve tried to get yourself writing that haven’t worked for you.