Second Verse, Same As The First
It’s very weird to be back, after 3 months abroad. Everything is basically were we left it; it almost feels like we didn’t go any where…
It’s very weird to be back, after 3 months abroad. Everything is basically were we left it; it almost feels like we didn’t go any where…
“… or “Have I read anything you’ve written?” (the vagaries of getting a play published aside, when was the last time you picked up a play at your local library or bookstore to read?)”
I listen to music when I write. A must. Partly it helps to set the tone of the scene(s) that I am working on; mostly it’s a way to shut my brain up so that I can work.
Life had other plans, as it always does. So when NaNo swung around this year, I rolled up my sleeves, took that deep breath and… ran headfirst into a wall.
Writers have a duty, not just to write what they want to read but to create worlds that they want to see, and to shine a light on the darker aspects of human nature, whether fictional or not.
“Not ‘where do you get your ideas?’, which is very broad and fairly useless and mostly lends itself to snarky comebacks the writer thinks of ten minutes later (or already has prepared. Mine is, “Anywhere I can get them, baby.”)”
“Essentially they’re asking me what the writing is doing for my life: what I’m earning from it, where it’s taking me, what I get out of it. Which is fair, because those are generic questions that can be applied to most jobs, and when you’re talking to strangers, generic questions are easiest.”