The Truth About Writing

Writing. Wrestling the muse. Pinning the genius like a moth to a corkboard. Delving, and distilling until it feels pure and right, then going back and putting it through the fire again. Filling page after page, screen after screen, with scribbles, scratches, and keystrokes. Why do we do it? How do we do it? What difference do we hope to make by doing it? What IS it anyway? This writing thing? For me, it’s an energy overspill, the page is a repository for the soul-stuff that cannot stay inside. For me, it’s how I create myself, drawing bits of...

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