One of my favorite things about writing is the delete option. Until it’s in print, and even sometimes after, you can still undo, take it back. I’ve erased, crossed out, deleted, and destroyed more than I’ve ever written. Eliminating the extraneous crap is important.
Then there’s the unappreciated glory of editing (dear lord, let a brilliant and devoted editor/marketing master fall madly in love with my writing), and the time and space to craft the words perfectly, so form and intent align correctly, poetically. The right combination of letters and sounds to create a story or message that magically moves me down to the bone.
Most of writing isn’t like that, at least not for me. But once in a while, generally after a lot of work, I write a phrase or sentence that is more fulfilling and orgasmic than anything else in life (wellllll, except doing art, or horseback riding in the mountains, or the intense mt biking I did w/my college boyfriend, or kayaking over Husum Falls topless (you couldn’t see anything, we had PFD’s on), or that crazy hot sex with the kinky fireman). Writing is like any other passion; it may not feed me or pay the rent, but it’s as necessary as breathing and as pleasurable as great sex.
And for those times when the words flow into something that feels so, so right and good, I’m so, so grateful.
Woman in Love – Barbra Streisand
Sleeping With A Friend – Neon Trees