Thursday, January 04, 2007

Real Writing

I’ve been asked to do some writing for someone else again. Which in a way is good, because it suggests that there are people who think I can write well…but it is also a nightmare. I feel like I am, quite unintentionally, a fraud. I blog, sometimes deeply, sometimes at length, and as a result some people come to the conclusion that I must think about what I write. But I don’t think about what I write at all; I just write about what I feel, what I intuitively understand. It may often be nonsense; most of it probably doesn’t stand up to cross-examination: I don’t really intend it to. I write about what I feel right now; but when I’m asked to write about something else – given a topic – I feel that I need to give that topic some thought, to write something that might just be defendable. Which is a kind of death to me as a writer. Damn.


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