“A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”
— Thomas Mann
If this is true, then I believe I am well on my way. I profess to love writing. Yet I leave my fiction writing homework for last. I fabricate excuses for why I can’t work on a story– I need it to sit in my head longer, it’s too raw, I’m too tired to do it any good. Secretly, I dread opening Microsoft Word. Because down the path of composition lies boundless decisions and words to contend with.
I think I need someone in my life to give me a good shove every so often; someone to help me cast myself into the abyss of writing. I need to be threatened at sword point or with a strict deadline in order to create something. Even though the material produced probably ought be burned later, I need someone to make me do what I want to do.