Why do you write?
Someone on FB asked why we write. I had a dream where the horses from my childhood were starving. The food I found ran out but there was still a filly to feed, and I found her a plastic pen. I was worried that the plastic would shatter in her throat.
She’s how I would talk about writing. She was starving and the pen could save her–but it also came with splinters.
You must be logged in to post a comment.