A human ass has two halves. A half-ass can’t be called a total ass.

When we half-ass something, we know we haven’t given it our best shot. It’s our rear end after all. Who cares? We can’t even see it.

We may half-ass out of several rationales:

  • I get paid no more and no less. Why should I work any harder?
    Translation: Smartassness
  • It’s not on the test. Why should I go the extra miles?
    Translation: Laziness
  • If I give it my best and still get rejected, that means that I’m no good. Therefore I’ll protect myself from the pain.
    Translation: Ego/Fear

All the three scenarios above have one thing in common. You do it because you’re told to do it, you get the permission to do it.

If you’re an artist, be it painter, writer, podcaster… doing your own thing with no boss, no deadline, no income for the passion project.

Would you hold yourself back? Would you half-ass?

Or, would you give your heart and soul instead?

I’ve been half-assing some of my novel pages lately because I promised to write.

I purged 60% of my bookshelf lately. It’s clear that the world doesn’t need another novel by a new writer who has nothing under her belt, yet.

So why am I still writing if I’m only half-assing?

“Why? What’s your intention?” 

Several writers from yesterday’s workshop asked me that same question.

I imagine someone out there may find the painful experience, the raw emotions from my story therapeutic to what she has been going through.

I’m writing for her. If I have but one audience, that’s okay. That’s enough.

And I won’t half-ass. I can’t do that to her.


Yours truly,

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