December 31

My eyes were glued to the six computer monitors on my desk, all displaying different stock symbols, charts, and market scanners. This was my life. 5 days a week. From 9:00AM to 4PM.

I had started two months ago. Trading equity options with the father of my friend. The pay, a modest $1200 a month. But after today, I was going to make 50% of whatever I brought in. The upside was huge.

“So, Justin, you think you’re ready to start your split?” Alex said.

“I can’t wait.” I replied back. “It’s all I think about.”

“Good. Good…

Medium writers love to talk about curation jail. I’m sorry. Excuse me. What?

You haven’t had a story curated yet, and you are in some sort of jail? I don’t get it. Instead of blaming medium, or the gods, why don’t you press on and work a little bit harder?

See what you can gleam from the top writers, before you shout of your woes in medium’s “curation jail”.

There is always something we can improve upon. Why not focus on your writing, your formatting, and your craft instead of complaining?

Whenever I see these posts about “curation jail” I…

It’s hard. We want to appear like we are well when really we are tormented inside. When someone asks me how I am, “I am great. I am chillen.” But, really, I am devastated. The walls are falling down all around me.

I keep going though, because I made a promise to myself, that I would. Leaving would just transfer my pain to my significant others, and the friends who have been there for me all along.

Surely, then, there is someone I can talk to. Maybe.

But, I keep it in. Well, I usually talk to my therapist and my doctor. But, my therapist had to cancel today, so…

I had tried many, many times to finish this book. I was 25 when I first received the vision. It came to me like a flash of lightning. That was ten years ago.

I wasn’t yet a writer, but I felt I had a story inside me that I had to tell. What could I do?

My sister was a writer and I thought maybe I could write the first draft and she could revise and master it.

I started writing The Catalyst ten years ago. I stopped and started it numerous times. …

Gut check. We are all going to die one day.

What matters is how we lived.

Did you live with passion?

Do you take crazy chances?

Why not?

What is stopping you?

If we really lived like we were going to die, we would take chances all the time.

Quit shooting from the foul line, aim for a three pointer. It doesn’t matter if you miss, keep shooting.

What do you want out of life?

Have you asked yourself that question yet?

I want to be a paid writer and speaker, and I am daily working on my craft. It’s my goal to do a Ted talk within ten years. I can see myself there, up on stage, delivering my magnum opus.

Besides that, I am starting a clothing and lifestyle brand, and I…

What does that say about me? What does it say about my writing? Am I gifted? Not at all.

It took me awhile to figure this whole curation thing out, and I am here to share my insights with you.

To get started: It’s not about content. And its only partly about quality. So, then what is it? What determines is a story will be curated?

The biggest factor, and the biggest obstacle in your article being curated is how the text is organized. It’s the articles appearance, or appeal, which is similar. It’s the formatting of the piece. …

If I knew how hard writing would be ten years ago, it’s safe to say, I never would have started.

But I was naive, and as I set out upon my first novel, I thought for sure, success was right around the corner.

Little did I know, that first book would take ten years, and many revisions, to finish.

And, after ten years, I finally began to draw an income from writing, having made $90 combined on medium and vocal media for the month of August 2021.

Now that I’ve made my first dollars, ten years later, I currently have three books on the market. …

I am a compulsive gambler. I know this. Yet, I still feel like I can gamble like regular people. You know, without it ruining my life.

What has gambling brought me thus far?

Nothing.

Still, I escape into the dream world of gambling. That’s exactly what it is. A temporary escape from the pressures of life. Temporary, because it only lasts until I run out of money. Money I worked hard for.

What can I do besides gambling? Write. Write my little heart out.

I know gambling is not good for me. Still, I refresh the poker app on my phone, wishing I could still play. Knowing I can’t.

Show me a gambler and I’ll show you a loser…