A writer’s heart

Because, you remember, I am not the writer I want to be. I hold her hostage, in a high tower of doubt and fear. And while the writer-I-would-be languishes in her protective prison, my feet-on-the-ground, commercial writer walks free. She crafts her product and collects her respectable paychecks. She is pragmatic and slightly smug. She is, after all, bringing home the bacon. She is pulling her weight. She is living in the real world.
– A writer’s heart

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