Surgery is just stabbing in a courteous environment

Remember you love writing. It wouldn’t be worth it if you didn’t. If the love fades, do what you need to and get it back.

We are not all connected. We are bags of skin. We are all separate bags of thinking skin.

A good roast of sun, it slows you, lets you relax–and out here if there's anything wrong, you can see it coming with bags of time to do what's next. This is the place and the weather for peace, for the cultivation of a friendly mind.

Surgery is just stabbing in a courteous environment

Remember you love writing. It wouldn't be worth it if you didn't. If the love fades, do what you need to and get it back. Remember writing doesn't love you. It doesn't care. Nevertheless, it can behave with remarkable generosity. Speak well of it, encourage others, pass it on.

Write. No amount of self-inflicted misery, altered states, black pullovers or being publicly obnoxious will ever add up to your being a writer. Writers write. On you go.