Repeat After Me, Writers: “The Penmonkey’s Paean”
Wallpaper of the Writer’s Prayer NOW AVAILABLE.
You’re so close to the end. It’s almost over. You can taste it. But you’re scared. Lip quivering. Hands milky with sweat. Britches stained with the fluids of fear. Hell with that. Time to slap on your ass-kicking outfit, whatever it may include (cowboy duster? stiletto heel boots? red velvet Fez? something with denim fringe?). Now you must wield your chosen weapon: a cherry red electric guitar with a neck that’s also a Turkish kilij scimitar and the power to strike a metal chord and launch a 40mm grenade — foomp! — into the crotch of your enemy, and then the grenade explodes into a shrapnel of fountain pens and searing hot ink. Finally: crank the music that boils your blood into your brain: a ratta-tatting snare, some Guns n’ Roses, a little “Don’t Stop Believing,” a dollop of Wu-Tang, or maybe Tom Jones’ “Sex Bomb.”
Then, stand in front of a mirror. Douse yourself in gasoline. Light yourself on fire.
And repeat after me.
This is the Writer’s Prayer. This is the Penmonkey’s Paean.
I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started.
I will not whine. I will not blubber. I will not make mewling whimpering cryface pissypants boo-hoo noises. I will not sing lamentations to my weakness.
My confidence is hard and unyielding. Like a kidney stone lodged in the ureter of a stegosaurus.
These are my adult pants. The diapers have burned away in the fires of my phoenix-esque rising.
I will burn down the forest. As the conflagration rages, all my excuses shall come scurrying forth like syphilitic rats whose backs smolder with the smoky scent of my coming victory. When my excuses bound, shrieking and squealing, toward my feet, I shall use my mighty wordhammer to squash them all, ‘asploding each like a sausage stuffed with self-deception and disillusionment.
This book is not the boss of my shit.
These characters dance when I tell them to dance. They leap, cackle, fuck and punch because I jolly well told them to and if they don’t do as I say I will have them nibbled to death by marmots.
This plot is knotted tight in the configuration I demand. With it I shall tie a noose, and with that noose I shall hang my fears and uncertainties by the neck until they void their bowels and their legs quit kickin’.
These words march in the order I choose. They are my little bitches, cobbled together of letters and made to carry heavy notions and lofty ideas and character motivations and bad-ass non-stop mad ninja action. In this way they are like ants, carrying more than they should rightfully be able to carry.
They can even be forced into sentences that no one has ever written before. “Betty Scarpetti can take pictures with her robotic hoo-hah, and those pictures will steal your dreams and sell them to goblins working the Secret Carnival down in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly.” See? Nobody has ever written that before. Every word journey is a Journey West. I am Lewis, and I am Clark. I am not the Donner Party.
I recognize that writing a novel is hard. And I don’t give a lemur’s left foot. I don’t give a good goddamn. I don’t give two shits in a wicker basket. The best things in life are hard. Like hunting pterodactyls. Like getting married. Like climbing a mountain and building a ladder to the moon. Like raising children. Like raising robotic children. Like making a golem who will build a robot who will raise your robot children.
Writing a novel is hard because it needs to be hard. If it was easy, every jackalope with chalk dust on his fingers would write an epic masterpiece on his cave wall.
I am like a crazy mountain goat, clambering to heights no man should go.
I can almost see the top now. The pinnacle awaits.
This book is almost complete. But challenges shall dog my every step.
My hamstrings might snap like high-tension cables and take out one of my eyes. My back may bend and bow until my scoliosis allows me to pleasure myself with my mouth. My knee caps might shoot off, striking a Yeti in the eye which makes him really mad and so he comes over and tears both of my arms off and beats me about the head and neck with my own gore-spewing limbs. My mind may crumble under the assault, driven to the very precipice of sanity, staring down into the deepest yawning yawping abyss and as the Yeti howls and my synapses fire I will smell the scent of funeral flowers wafting up from that abyss and I will find it peaceful and comfortable and will realize how easy it would be to just pivot my hips just-so and go tumbling down into that satisfying darkness, the darkness of ease, the darkness of acquiescence, the milk-livered niddering darkness of sweet sweet cowardice.
But I will do no such thing.
I will soldier on.
I will grab one of my severed arms in my teeth.
I will flail my neck around until I slug the Yeti in his Yeti balls with one of my own dismembered limbs, and I will watch as he cries, “MROOOOOooooo!” and pirouettes into the chasm of shadow, clutching his junk.
I will reattach my arms with the duct tape I wisely brought from home.
I will hammer my spine straight with a rock I found on the ground.
I will tie my busted-ass hamstrings around my recently-reattached arms, and I shall puppet my own legs as if I am a Marionette, and I shall puppeteer those legs so that they step over the yawning abyss.
I will sally forth until I have this book by the balls and by the throat.
I am the Commander of these words.
I am the King of this story.
I am the God of this place.
I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started.
[links] Link salad arrives at Friday, surprised | jlake.com
December 17, 2010 @ 8:17 AM
[…] Repeat after me, writers: “The Penmonkey’s Paean” — A writer’s prayer. (Via a mailing list I’m on.) […]
December 17, 2010 @ 8:30 AM
I am standing at the yawning, yawping precipice as i read this. Its so nice to know I’m not the only one who fears denoument.
December 17, 2010 @ 8:51 PM
I would like to have this tattooed on the backs of my eyelids.
December 17, 2010 @ 8:58 PM
[speechless but not wordless]
December 17, 2010 @ 11:30 PM
TESTIFY!!!!
(okay, that was a bit much, but this thing just made me really excited)
(and I mean that in a non-icky way)
December 18, 2010 @ 12:38 AM
o.0
I’ve read a lot of encouraging words, but none of them went BANG!! like this.
Wake-up call. I has it.
December 18, 2010 @ 2:55 AM
ayyyyyyyyy-MEN!
now. where my stiletto boots, because i feel like wearing the SHIT outta those.
Bonus link | International Story a Day Group
December 18, 2010 @ 4:20 AM
[…] Because you need this, yes, you do: The Penmonkey’s Paean. […]
December 18, 2010 @ 1:12 PM
I just slogged through The Chapter From Hell, dragging my hero’s half-paralyzed body out of the pit of nightmare, and now I’m literally crying with laughter at this.
Amen, brother!
December 19, 2010 @ 8:58 PM
Chuck, I keep encountering this post, out in the Interwilds, linked back by author after author. It keeps popping up again and again. It’s wonderful.
December 20, 2010 @ 12:23 PM
Yeah, that’s it exactly.
This book is not the boss of me « En udda verklighet
December 20, 2010 @ 5:56 PM
[…] ”I recognize that writing a novel is hard. And I don’t give a lemur’s left foot. I don’t give a good goddamn. I don’t give two shits in a wicker basket. The best things in life are hard. Like hunting pterodactyls. Like getting married. Like climbing a mountain and building a ladder to the moon. Like raising children. Like raising robotic children. Like making a golem who will build a robot who will raise your robot children.” […]
Repeat After Me, Writers: “The Penmonkey’s Paean†| Syd Gill
December 31, 2010 @ 1:27 PM
[…] My new mantra! This is going up, in a frame, right next to my sword and yeti hammer. Repeat After Me, Writers: “The Penmonkey’s Paeanâ€. […]
A Wish for 2011 « Amy writes…
December 31, 2010 @ 6:07 PM
[…] In 2011, I’m going to finish the things I start. […]
Tuesday List of Awesome | I Wanna Be A Writer When I Grow Up
January 11, 2011 @ 11:04 AM
[…] blog of awesome, Terrible Minds. I recently discovered him on Twitter through this post called The Writer’s Prayer (The Penmonkey Paean), which is so full of win that he totally hooked me to his blog. After reading that, I moved on to his […]
A Writer’s Prayer « Sara's Blog
January 12, 2011 @ 5:00 PM
[…] of my writing group friends posted this link on the group forum recently, and I had to share it with […]
January 23, 2011 @ 10:58 PM
*ROFMFAO* Perfect! I think I ovulated, too! (that was a good one).
I have dedicated it to friends who have written or attempted to write books, and bookmarked it for my next writing venture.
Spot on, bravo, a-freaking-men and hallellujah! Love this! (thanks to stephen Dedman who shared this)
I will finish this… « En udda verklighet
February 8, 2011 @ 10:57 AM
[…] minns säkert den här? Om hur skrivande är som att jaga pterodaktyler och som att vara en galen bergsget? Nå, den går […]
The Secret Lair » Blog Archive » Overlord’s Pick: Chuck Wendig
February 23, 2011 @ 2:04 PM
[…] to be clear: this is praise. I first discovered Wendig when Jay Lake linked to his Penmonkey’s Paean. This is a manfiesto about the craft of writing that contains such gems as: These words march in […]
June 6, 2011 @ 9:27 AM
Wallpaper of the Writer’s Prayer now available:
http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2011/05/27/penmonkey-bonus-content-in-the-form-of-tasty-ass-wallpapers/
— c.
June 6, 2011 @ 9:48 AM
Wow. I had no idea there were so many writers. (Sitting around reading blogs when…)
Chuck, I have printed this off, because it’s not only damn funny, but because my mind works the same way and it’s good to know I’m not… ahem… unusual.
And I’ll retweet it.
A toast to all the Yeti wrestling, duct tape weilding Golem Makers, Queens, Kings and Commanders.
June 6, 2011 @ 11:10 AM
Further proof that you, the writer, have final say over how your characters behave and what they accomplish … even if they should get a little unruly.
Andy Breckman as interpreted by Steven Brust: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myDBSfJlehs
June 19, 2011 @ 9:24 AM
Fuck that shit. It’s not a prayer. It’s a manifesto. I have some people I need to direct to this site. Usually, I just play Bjork’s “Army of Me” over and over again. And dance. Then listen to it some more. And write. But now I will have this to read as well.
June 21, 2011 @ 2:31 PM
Amen! It goes for writing history, too.
#31: The Writer’s Prayer | Journey to Faschel
June 30, 2011 @ 6:35 AM
[…] Do’a ini saya dapatkan dari: http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2010/11/22/the-writers-prayer-the-penmonkey-paean/ […]
Chuck Wendig: A Writer’s Prayer « A Funny thing Happened on the way to the Library
August 19, 2011 @ 8:03 AM
[…] Wendig’s Writer’s prayer should be compulsory reading for all writers. Go read it, read it now. I’ll […]
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November 7, 2011 @ 11:27 AM
[…] An easy solution to rid the feeling of guilt and insanity: just don’t do it. Don’t drop out. In the words of Chuck Wendig: you are a writer and you will finish this shit that you started. […]
I’ve been slacking off… | Creative Worlds
February 19, 2012 @ 9:21 PM
[…] needs to be over 2000. Check in next week to see how things went. To quote Chuck Wendig, “I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started.” This entry was posted in Uncategorized by Seth Swanson. Bookmark the […]
November 1, 2012 @ 12:01 AM
Preach preacha! 😀
Getting Writing Projects Done | Flash Writing
December 13, 2012 @ 12:50 PM
[…] Wendig has a theme that resonates through his blog and work, and has a popular writer’s prayer that he shares on his website: […]
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May 6, 2013 @ 3:13 PM
[…] reject that temptation. Nope. It was nothing more than something I had read on the blog of author Chuck Wendig. It was a statement that I have never fully recovered […]
Mardrömmar, sanndrömmar? | En udda verklighet
May 13, 2013 @ 4:58 AM
[…] Jag är författare och jag ska fan i mig avsluta det jag påbörjat. Dessutom vill jag helst inte vakna från fler mardrömmar om att jag inte skrivit klart, så då är det ju bäst om jag gör något åt det. GillaGilla Laddar… Det här inlägget postades i Arbetsnamn: Blodsbreven, livet i allmänhet, skrivprocessen, skrivtid. Bokmärk permalänken. […]
June 8, 2013 @ 2:42 AM
That is perfect motivation. Can you condense it so I can get it tattooed on my ass? Maybe I’ll have it done in tiny print like Biblical Scripture then it can all meld together and look great when I’m sixty.
NaNoWriMoPepp#4 | SF-bokhandeln Malmö
November 28, 2013 @ 10:38 AM
[…] The Penmonkey’s Paean av Chuck Wendig. ”My confidence is hard and unyielding. Like a kidney stone lodged in the ureter of a stegosaurus. (…) I am like a crazy mountain goat, clambering to heights no man should go. (…) I will sally forth until I have this book by the balls and by the throat. I am the Commander of these words. I am the King of this story. I am the God of this place. I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started.” […]
January 24, 2014 @ 5:36 AM
Loved it …………….. 🙂
On Mastery
April 3, 2014 @ 6:50 PM
[…] Read the rest, here. Then put it on your desktop. Print it off and paste it to your wall. Chant it in front of the mirror. […]
The Penmonkey’s Paean - The Tinderbox
August 31, 2014 @ 10:21 AM
[…] It’s called the Penmonkey’s Paean. […]
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February 11, 2015 @ 7:11 AM
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[…] – Chuck Wendig […]