Every time I write something down I check it to see if it has that telltale glow, the glow that tells me there's something there. If it glows, it stays. Everything is either on or off.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
You see something, then it clicks with something else, and it will make a story. But you never know when it's going to happen.
There's a button that goes On and I'm On. And when I go On, there is almost no me; there is just a character who is doing all this.
Somehow, the words don't have any vitality, any life to them, unless I can feel it marking on a paper. That's how I start. Once I'm off, then I switch to the laptop. I think it would all just be prose if it started on a laptop - not that what I do is poetry.
My characters are always on the outside; the spotlight's not on them. But they do get somewhere.
I just wanted to make sure that what I write is what appears on screen, to not have some idiot change it on its way to the screen.
There is nothing in the dark that isn't there when the lights are on.
The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.
How do you show what's not there? How do you show energy?
There are two kinds of light - the glow that illuminates, and the glare that obscures.
Goodness is uneventful. It does not flash, it glows.