Heavy. Duty.

~ duty as presence, not as motion

Aug 16, 2025

Some days it feels like a weight on our shoulders.

Other days, like a calling. Writing is both heavy and duty.

Not just the act of putting words down. But showing up again and again, tired yet willing, because this work asks much and gives back more. This is the middle day of three; these joyous and duty-laden feelings are not new - another day among so many writers of every stripe you might imagine … their own lives, careers, writing-pasts, and writing-futures squeezed between Thursday and Monday … so many words, feelings, ideas and characters colliding.

Day two of a three-day writing conference.

Exhilarating, exhausting, and in equal measure. Yesterday’s pace left me drained, yet I woke early today because the work demands it. Presenters show their best in polished talks, but their humanity peeks out in the Q&A. That’s where their strength, or their struggle, is revealed.

One woman found her rhythm by staking her ground early. She picked a room, planted herself, and said, “All the sessions I want are in this room, so I’m not moving.” Smart. Heavy-duty isn’t always about running everywhere. Sometimes it’s about staying put, listening hard, and digging deeper.

This conference has me thinking: writing isn’t just passion or art. It’s duty. Not imposed from outside, but from within. It’s the weight of words that insist on being written.

We often confuse heavy with burden. Burdens are imposed, unwanted, or carried for someone else. Heavy-duty, by contrast, is a choice. The kind we accept because the work matters.

Writing asks us to carry both the fatigue of practice and the joy of expression. It drains us and fills us, sometimes in the same hour. Duty is in showing up for the page, even when tired, even when uninspired, because somewhere in that persistence lies truth.

For presenters, the heavy duty is risk—standing before strangers, exposing not just polished work but vulnerability when questioned. For attendees, it is choosing patience, focus, and endurance. Either way, it is a reminder: creativity is work as much as it is inspiration.

The duty is heavy, but it is also what makes the craft feel alive.

The heaviest work is often the most meaningful; heavy duty is the weight we choose, not a weight imposed on our lives - but for moments each day, it feels that way.

The critic would say:

“This is another tired metaphor about writing being hard but worth it.”

Answer: No, it’s not about romanticizing hard work. It’s about writers who’ve experienced years and decades of unrewarded effort, their persistence that rarely gets applause, and the way even the most accomplished writers still hunger for their next breakthrough. Most, still aching for their first. That’s the heavy-duty.