Most people who can write do write. Over all the years I have been working with students, across ages and demographic groups, I’m yet to meet someone who has never in their life attempted a poem or a story. For many, this dies out by the time they hit college, or by the time they start work, but that early desire to tell one’s own unique part of the human experience — to put it down in some way, immortalise it even for a tiny fraction of the world— appears fairly universal. While it can be hard for many people to break through the initial hesitation to write, especially as they get older and wounds of self-criticism and external judgment have had time to firm up under their skins, those first words are still relatively easy. And they are often exhilirating, the first voicing of unvoiced things.
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Drawing the Chicken 2: On Revision
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Most people who can write do write. Over all the years I have been working with students, across ages and demographic groups, I’m yet to meet someone who has never in their life attempted a poem or a story. For many, this dies out by the time they hit college, or by the time they start work, but that early desire to tell one’s own unique part of the human experience — to put it down in some way, immortalise it even for a tiny fraction of the world— appears fairly universal. While it can be hard for many people to break through the initial hesitation to write, especially as they get older and wounds of self-criticism and external judgment have had time to firm up under their skins, those first words are still relatively easy. And they are often exhilirating, the first voicing of unvoiced things.