Aye, and I saw Sisyphus in violent torment, seeking to raise a monstrous stone with both his hands. Verily he would brace himself with hands and feet, and thrust the stone toward the crest of a hill, but as often as he was about to heave it over the top, the weight would turn it back, and then down again to the plain would come rolling the ruthless stone. But he would strain again and thrust it back, and the sweat flowed down from his limbs, and dust rose up from his head.
Homer, Odyssey, Book XI
Mama told me when I was young, Come sit beside me my only son, And listen closely to what I say, And if you do this, It will help you some sunny day…
Lynyrd Skynyrd, Simple Man
WARNING: what this article talks about is not for everyone. Be careful, this writing can be dangerous. Know your limits.
And yet sleep came and brought oblivion and relief from pain for a few hours. —Victor Frankl
Sleep is delicious. It’s restorative, like a great meal. We need it to survive. But for all adults there’s a line we must draw for where we spend our time. For writers, or anyone pursuing large goals over extended periods of time, sleep is often an area that can be sacrificed for significant productive gains.
Majoring in English can be scary. It’s not for the faint. People look at you weird–especially when you switch majors from something technical with guaranteed career paths. You get made fun of, looked down on. You get told reading is boring, writing is hard. Or worse: there’s no money in it. Right?