Novice - You don't have to like it

Writing is like eating vegetables.

As a kid I never ate vegetables.

My Cuban mom thought vegetables referred to avocados and tomatoes drenched with olive oil and sprinkled with salt.

Mom's idea of good nutrition was ice cold smoothies made with Coca Cola, sweetened condensed milk, and cafe cubano.

My baby teeth rotted, but that was normal.

Then we came to America and I grew up to be a good American mother. I made my kids eat vegetables.

"Mo-o-o-o-om" they wail, "I don't like broccoli."

"That's ok, you don't have to like it, you just have to eat it. Tell you what, I'll take a bite, then you take a bite."

I put broccoli in my mouth and chew it like I love it.

"Hmmm, yummy, yummy. Now your turn."

"Why are  you making them eat that?" mom chides. "They don't like it. Give them rice. They love rice."

"Mo-o-o-o-om", my turn to wail. "How many times do I have to tell you? They don't have to like it."

My children learned to be wary of sugar, balance their meals, and eat what they didn't like.

They are all grown now. The dining room table is mostly a place to write. And I don't like everything I write. But I am told writing is good for me. So I belly up to the table and chew on my words, my stomach churning.


I suspect that given my sweet tooth, if I were to like everything I write, it would end up rotting my fangs. I'd have to gum my way through life, and smile only when I wear dentures.

I feed myself through writing. I feed myself raw vegetables and gnaw on bones. And I don't have to like it.

See, there's something bigger than me that bids me write. Something that gives me what I like, as well as what I don't like. That BIG something is wild and bloody and covered with fur and thinks that for me to concern myself with likes and dislikes is silly and superficial. The BIG something doesn't care about that, there's no wisdom or sustenance in it. This BIG something wants to pull me out of the amniotic sac I've been floating in, lick me clean so I can gasp for air, gnaw a bone, and learn to write.

The gnawing on bones part? This I did learn from my mom.