I spent many years as a strictly ink Writer. This was actually a silent protest against publishers, critics, and pretty much the rest of the world. You see, it was critical that I wrote for mySelf and no other. I still believe that once you start creating Art for other people instead of as a reflection of who You are… something gets lost.
I have no idea where all of my writing books are. I do know, however, that every writing book I’ve had pre-2002 has been thrown in the garbage by an angry Italian mother that was very unhappy when her youngest daughter moved out of the house fairly unannounced, twice.
Ok completely unannounced. Continue reading