I overheard a conversation. But you must not think ill of me, for it took place not five feet from where I was sitting in a coffee house. The fellow behind the counter was being most amiable to a woman for whom he was making a drink, and saying "And everything I write I don't necessarily like." Being a writer myself, I quite agreed.
"Sometimes I just have to get something out and off my back. Some of what I write is really..." - he left it hanging darkly and went on - "and I'm glad to get it out, but I don't like what I've written... Yeah, how I deal with writers block is I make myself write for at least ten minutes every day. I just got a computor with a Word program and all kinds of hookups, but it's just not the same as getting it down on paper with a pen. So now I have a thousand dollar Solitaire game." He laughed at the irony, as I have countless times at the technology developed for those who are writers by those who are not. I wanted to say "I know exactly what you mean. I love that you love the pen as well as I, and even though our writing styles are entirely different, let's talk about inspiration and beauty and darkness. Let's compare notes on waking up out of a dream with a poem or a line that steadily gnaws at your mind until you simply must grope in the dark for pen and paper, or at least a pen to scribble it down on your arm. Let's discuss the exhileration of knowing what you've created is good, even if no one will ever know, or the disgust you feel when all you've written is something sappy and typical; The solemnity of writing the very first words in a blank notebook of thick creamy pages, and wondering 'what thought of mine is worthy to be first recorded here?'; The poetry which must sufficiently absorb into your soul before you show it to anyone. Let's talk, because we are both writers, and if there is nothing else we have in common, that is enough to warrant a friendship."
But it would have sounded as sappy and typical as it looks here, so I said nothing, but smiled quietly into my coffee because there were two of us in the room.