Flying High

We tend not to think about how physical writing is until we spend ten days (as I just have) writing 27,000 words for a client. The fingers burn, the palms go senseless, the arms feel like leaden weights. Let's not even talk about the slump-ache of the spine.

Why, I've been asked a million times, do you spend most of your time working for others—climbing inside their stories, putting their narratives down? I ask myself that question too, sometimes, but it always does come back down to this: Working is bridging, it's listening to others. It's trying to see past. It's dangerous, I think, to get too lost inside ourselves, dangerous for us as people, of course, but dangerous for us as writers, too. The more we know, the better we have heard and tussled with the dreams, disappointments, and ambitions of others, the better we ultimately imagine.