Writing rarely comes easy for me. Which sucks, since it’s my job and all. Not one I clock in and out of, mind you, but one that takes up a good portion of my days. And whether it’s something I’m getting paid for or something I’m doing for free, you can bet that I agonize over each and every word. (Even ——-> this <------- one.) It's not ideal, but it's my life. Whether it's a living or not is yet to be determined.

Getting started is usually the hardest part. Once I get going, I’m good. I don’t break deadlines, although I do show up to a lot of them out of breath and carrying a bouquet. If a piece is due on a Friday, I generally spend all week long stressing, then bang it out on Thursday night into Friday morning. That’s just how I roll. I don’t like it much—and it can’t be good for me—but it seems unlikely to change.

There are times, however, when writing comes easier. Like, say, when I have inspiration. For example, when a prominent BMX magazine intros a new product by taking shots at me. Not that anything like that would ever happen.

Look, feel free to take shots. I can handle it. When I started this blog, I realized that would probably happen. Although I’m surprised they’d come from DIG. And I’m even more surprised that they failed to do any basic fact checking. To wit:

a) I still ride bikes. Rode today, in fact. And yesterday.

b) I don’t have a television in my bedroom.

c) My parents’ garage doesn’t have a room over it.

Quite frankly, after all those egregious errors, I find it hard to believe anything they wrote, even the stuff about whatever generic squashed and steep frame it is they’re pushing now. (Since it’s for the “technical street rider,” I assume it’s either the new Standard Bullitt, or a signature frame for Trent Reznor.)

As for the living at home thing, yep. One hundred percent true. I’m looking at it as a vacation of sorts, only one where I have to mow the lawn and occasionally go to the grocery store. The suburbs are actually a nice break after spending the last 10 years living in midtown Manhattan. Don’t know what I’m talking about, DIG guys? That’s fine. More likely than not—especially if the media biz keeps heading in the direction it is now—you’ll find out for yourselves soon enough.

Steven Hamilton is.

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