Happiness is ...
A cup of coffee and writing on a snowy Saturday morning.

As writers, we better darn well enjoy the process (at least some of it) because there is nothing else.

Finish this trilogy/novel/short story/sentence and what happens?

You pick it back up and start all over again.

Love or hate it, this is the act of writing. We’re not booksellers, we’re writers. This is a distinction often lost in the conflation that comes with publishing.



At 3:58 PM, Anonymous Adrian said...

...and why is it that writing is best accomplished during wintry/rainy weather? The obvious thing would be to say, "You can't go outside and play so you stay indoors and write," I suppose, but I'm not - and have never been - the "outside to play type"...yet the juices flow best when the weather outside is frightful.


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