My biggest excuse to others and myself was that I had writer's block, as if it was some kind of illness.

My inner critic who had begun piping up about how hopeless I was and how I didn't know to write.

A wonderful emotion to get things moving when one is stuck is anger. It was anger more than anything else that had set me off, roused me into productivity and creativity.

Reading Stephen King's book, On Writing, was like being cornered and forced to have a long, drawn out mental enema.

Krishna children were taught that in the spiritual world there were no parents, only souls and hence this justified their being kept out of view from others, cloistered in separate buildings and sheltered from the evil material world.

My block was due to two overlapping factors: laziness and lack of discipline.

My biggest excuse to others and myself was that I had writer's block, as if it was some kind of illness.