And so the horror returns. I could probably keep at this until my ashes are strewn, but there is a piece of me that would like to take on something larger, something less reactive. Sheep lice do not seem to share this longing, which is one reason they write so very little.
Another is that writing motivates you to look closely at life, at life as it lurches by and tramps around. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft.
For her, the essence of writing is about something simple, something immutable about being human: Good writing is about telling the truth. And what a find this turned out to be.
Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises.