I usually read other writers’ biographies in the same way that I ride a roller coaster–with my hands over my eyes, but peeking every now and then–because I sort of want to know what’s coming next, and I sort of don’t. I get intimidated and jealous very easily, and during some of those insecure hours that I read about others’ achievements, I come away thinking that my efforts will never amount to anything.

But reading Po Bronson’s (New York Times bestselling author of both fiction and nonfiction–puke right there) advice to new writers reads, to me, like the timeless classic, “Desiderata,” a poem copyrighted by Max Ehrmann in 1927, that hung in the laundry room of my childhood house.

I’ve excerpted the lines from Po Bronson’s advice that teach a valuable lesson about life, in general. If you replace the word “writing” with “living,” you’ll find here a kind of “Instruction Book for Depressives.” My remarks are in brackets.

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The writing life [life with depression] is lonely. Taking some of that loneliness out of it helps you to hang in there. Create a supportive environment that allows you to give it the kind of time it takes.

Don’t be jealous of others’ success. Jealousy and envy are the enemy of genuine creativity [and recovery]. Wish others well and hope to join them someday.

Failure [and relapses] are part of it. You will be rejected dozens and dozens of times. The best way to prepare for it is to have something else in the works (an alternative plan) by the time the rejection letter [or relapse] arrives. Invest your hope in the next project.

To be writing [living with depression] is good for the soul; it’s good for your character–to be observing, interpreting, producing (not just consuming). It’s good to share your work [or story] with others rather than be mindless. Pay attention to this. It’s very important. Success is not measured by bestseller lists. Certain types of great books sell very well; other types of great books don’t sell a lot. But they’re both great.

Don’t think you’re cooler than other people. Don’t think you get special attention or have needs that are more special than anyone else’s needs. That manner of indulgent thinking inevitably leads to a bonfire, a flameout of selfishness. It borrows from the future in hopes that one can make it all pay off today. It’s unsustainable. Manage your responsibilities, take care of them, don’t borrow from the future.

Allow for many paths to your goal. Do not fixate on one path, because then you are likely to give up when that path is blocked.

Make sure your characters are worth spending ten hours with [unless you have multiple personalities, let’s skip this one…it could be dangerous].

Write [live] from your whole self. If you have a sense of humor, make sure that flavor’s in your writing. If you like talking ideas, make sure there are ideas in your writing. Anything less will be unsustainable.

Writers [depressives] are often defined by what they do when they’re stuck, or blocked. Some ask what the character would do in that situation. Some look just for where the line wants to take them, where the style of the sentence wants to go–what reads well. Some, like me, try to remember our politics, remember what makes us angry–and let that inform what we should be writing.

Write [live] first. Worry about getting an agent or publisher [the details] later. Write it first. Prove you can do it and then others will listen. Tons of people talk about books they want to write. Far fewer are those who actually complete that vision. Don’t be a talker.

Can you write [live] from other people’s point of view? Yes, if you’re empathic and willing to listen and care about others.

Articulate, don’t insinuate. The writer who insinuates merely makes a hinting nod to a notion that you and he are vaguely aware of and presumably share, presumably in exactly the same way. The writer (depressive) who articulates does not fear that putting something into words (action) destroys that feeling or thought. Only putting the wrong words (actions) on it destroys it. The writer who articulates does not presume all people experience feelings in exactly the same way.

When you’re stuck, those aren’t the worst parts, those are the best parts–they’re your chance to be creative.

When you want to skip something because it’s too confusing to explain, that’s your chance to slow down and behold the truth that real life is complicated, real people are complicated.

Embrace subjectivity. Even the subjectivity of an omniscient narration. Only by embracing it, truly, can you take the gloves off and let your take fly.

Create outlines but don’t stick to them [I especially like this one]. Revise your outlines halfway through and then shortly before the end. Never stick to them.

Put your very best stuff first, and then force yourself to grow and synthesize and come up with more, more stuff to rival your best.

Nobody’s ever “made it.” You never get to go on cruise control. This is good–life shouldn’t be wasted on cruise control. If you want a cushy life on cruise control, you are missing the point of life.

Find a few good role models. You only need a few, maybe only one. Let them inspire you. Art reacts to art.

Always tell a story. It grounds the reader [friends, family] in a shared experience.

Don’t be a snob.

Work on your weaknesses. Find out what you’re hiding from.

Stop looking for shortcuts.