Brother Are You Dying?
Yesterday evening I sat at my computer and attempted to type up a novella I had written while in Lisbon. It's one of those stories that just spilled forth, where I stayed up all night wrote straight into my journal, and woke up early to continue. Not out of discipline but because I had to. But then last night I finally had to admit to myself that it is this aspect of writing I like the least: Moving my handwritten text from my journal by typing it up into an electronic file. The problem is that this is an integral part of my writing process, a part of the revision and also a step towards getting it out there, to you, the reader. This is where the discipline is needed. So anyway, I'm really struglling to type up this story and focus, which I did a bad job at, cause of course at some point I checked my email, so EAGER for a distraction was I. And I saw that I got an email from my brother. I'm psyched because my brother Gerry is really cool. He's like the quintess...