Sinclair Lewis was slated to deliver an hour-long lecture to a groupof college students who planned to be writers.

As he stood before them, his papers and briefcase in front of him, he asked a question: “How many of you really intend to be writers?”

All the students raised their hands.

“In that case,” said Lewis, “my advice to you is to go home and write.”

With that, he picked up his briefcase and left.

Simple story. Simple strategy: If you want to be a writer, write.

When we put aside the distractions, when we put aside the doubts, when we put aside the fears, when we put aside the excuses, when we let go of all this baggage, something magical happens: We write!

And if we embrace the page eagerly and openly, more magic appears:

We grab wisps of ideas and begin to put flesh and bones on them.

We find that elusive word – the one that’s so much better than the word we started out with and our sentence begins to sing. And then another. And another begins to sing.

We rejigger that paragraph –- the one that seemed lumpy and leaden, and it begins to lighten up, to breathe and move our story forward.

We forget all about time – it seems to fly by unnoticed, unmourned.

We begin to have more ideas – they bubble up and we feel more creative and alive.

We begin to see what we couldn’t see before: our work bears surprising, unexpected fruit.

All this and more can be ours today and every day. If we remember Sinclair’s simple strategy: If you want to be a writer, write. Write on!