Somewhere along the way, I forgot the very thing that drives me — this desire to create, to write, and to see my words in print. I forgot what it meant to be me. So now I have to dig deep. The only way out is through. I have to keep writing.
“Write drunk, edit sober.” — Earnest Hemingway
This phrase has been punctuated by endless memes on social media. It’s a fun thought. You know, thinking about what authors must be like. Picturing them sitting at their writing desks, holed up in their study.
A bottle of scotch sits within arm’s reach. Or is it vodka, or wine?