The circularity of our journey often nagged at me once we’d returned home. What were we doing with ourselves anyway? Where were we going?
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I had to break myself of a habit once I became self-employed. If I wanted, I could chuck every supposed responsibility and spend the entire day watching reruns of Seinfeld. I liked Seinfeld, but this doesn’t actually sound like a fun way to spend a day.
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If you’re a writer, every time you sit down to work you choose – whether you acknowledge it or not – to face the unknown. That’s the only place you’ll find your story.
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I never want to be late, or rude, or bored, or angry, or tired, or scared, or depressed, but I do love to tell stories.
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Only you know the ending to your story, and only you know who you love and what you love – and love, of course, the is most creative force in the universe.
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It’s an inside-out world we live in. I know it doesn’t seem that way most of the time. Well, maybe it does when you’re writing.
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If I’m smart, when I start a book, I don’t talk to anyone about it except my wife and my agent, and even then I don’t tell my agent anything about the book except that I’m writing it.
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You know how it is when you’re in the zone. It doesn’t matter how long you’re in it, you know when you are, and it doesn’t get any better than that. It feels great, whether you’re writing or talking to a friend or dreaming of a new idea. You’re not worried about the future or mulling over the past, you’re just interested in what’s coming next.
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I grew up in the 70s and 80s, when guitar heroes were much more a thing than they are today.
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If I look beyond the veil of appearance or wealth or labels like romance writer or poet or memoirist, I see someone much like me,
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The best remedy for anxiety or despair is to turn to my curiosity.
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Just as I choose every word that goes on my page, and in so doing find my way to the story I want to tell, so too I have to choose peace again and again and again.
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Publishing, however you do it, is how you really finish something.
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On the other side of forgiveness is always appreciation of the very thing I resented and resisted and devalued.
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Artists, and writers in particular, spend every day asking questions to which they don’t have an answer.
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All our accomplishments are really bi-products of the first success, the one that comes before all the acceptance letters and reviews and bookstore appearances.
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What is the “miracle of creation” other than inviting through us something that hadn’t been before?
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It doesn’t matter how big the world is and how long it’s been spinning, you are unique upon it, and your story is the first of its kind.
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The good I’ve known, like my breath, is meant to go out.
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The greatest pleasure I’ve known in my life is the fulfillment of my unique creative desire.
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