Reflection on The Writing Life

It was the first book on my list. It’s done. Checked off. And I could not have asked for a better first book.

Was I happy with the scenes? The ones about starring endlessly at a computer screen? About being a cabin out in the middle of no where with a few neighbors to watch you split wood by yourself, alone, and un-trained? Yes. I’d be lying to say I wasn’t.

I have this picture in my mind that a writer must be a writer or not at all. They must be consumed with words, books, images, paintings, and the art of the story, or they are not really a writer. This book sort of confirmed that image. The writing was rich, impressionistic almost, and perfect for understanding writing.

It also challenged me. Partly because it asked the question, “Do you really want this?”

And also because it demanded an answer, “Yes, but I think I can do it my style.”

Highly recommend? Yes.

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3 thoughts on “Reflection on The Writing Life

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