Why do you write?




I love above all else:

Here with my glasses sitting on the window ledge, a book in my lap and my own novel’s characters and story echoing to me from the future and the past.

A hard day’s work and a good night’s rest.

I love this solitude.  It is something I will never give up gladly.  The chambers of the mind’s power and gaze, the nooks of the heart, the questions of my life and my earth and its people.  I have broken, fixed, and strengthened my own self in this solitude.  Here, I smile the slow, deep, long smile of fulfillment.


2 thoughts on “Why do you write?

  1. Ahhh! That feeling is so tremendous! I haven’t had time to sit back and get lost in my daydreams, yet.


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