A long and winding road.
Why anyone would choose to be a writer, is beyond me. What possible reason could there to be travel a road so long, there appears to be no end in sight? What is the reason for this powerful urge to create worlds and people from the raw material of the imagination?
The answer to the first question is addiction. One can’t help but pen to paper. If resistance is brought into play, then the writer pays the price – and it’s a high one. There’s no let up from that nagging feeling that you should be writing and not procrastinating, something of which I’m afraid I’m guilty of.
But, if one rolls up one’s sleeves and gets to work, then the reward is just as high. That sensation of having accomplished something worthwhile is worth all the hard graft. Taxing your brain to the nth degree, in order to dredge up plots, characters and settings, is well worth the effort entailed.
So, all my writer colleagues, have to and pen that story, article or book – you know you want to.