Writers are like most people: always in transition, always in one place before the next. Sometimes we can express that, and other times we have to wait a little while before doing so; however, we’re always writing. Whether we immediately make our experiences into text or not, our thoughts are a current from which nothing ever really disappears, but where they only transform into something else at another place and time for us to draw from.

When your time arrives, you’ll know –or your fingers will know– through the same magical process that leads you to walk out and face the world each morning. And you know that feeling, and how it will be more than just beautiful. You know how it will make up for every moment of the merciless drought, when –even if only for a moment– you’ll be the greatest writer in the world: the one which everyone’s been waiting for; or at least, the one that you’ve been waiting for.


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