I was at my neighborhood pub on Saturday, talking to a 60-something Danny DeVito type wearing a red pocket tee and khaki shorts. He's an old-school photographer -- hates the internet and what it's done to good work. Everything is so available, not as special as it used to be, he said. I could hear in his voice that he missed darkrooms.
He asked me what I do, and I told him. And then he asked me what I really wanted to do (because, we creative types, we all have a dream side project). I told him I wanted to write a book (um, join the club, I know), and he asked me why I hadn't started.
"I'm just...I'm afraid it will suck," I said, in my not-so-refined twentysomething parlance. "And then, well, I'll have no dream left."
He took a sip from his highball of Glenlivet 12 and stared straight ahead.
"Even if it 'sucks,'" he said, "it creates a bottom. You'll improve from there."
Wise words from a feller on a barstool.