There is a stereotype out there about writers. They’re talented and frustrated and hit the bottle way too often. Maybe the reason some talented writers are frustrated and drink to excess is because of what they’re asked to write. Example:

Asking a working writer what he thinks about critics is like asking a lamppost how it feels about dogs.
I have a structured songwriting process. I start with the music and try to come up with musical ideas, then the melody, then the hook, and the lyrics come last.
If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it’s to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.
Socially, a journalist fits in somewhere between a whore and a bartender. But spiritually he stands beside Galileo. He knows the world is round.
What I loved most about calling myself a reporter was that it gave me an excuse to show up anyplace.
Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don’t feel I should be doing something else.
It took me fifteen years to discover I had no talent for writing, but I couldn’t give it up because by that time I was too famous.
Thank your readers and the critics who praise you, and then ignore them. Write for the most intelligent, wittiest, wisest audience in the universe: Write to please yourself.
Keep a small can of WD-40 on your desk — away from any open flames — to remind yourself that if you don’t write daily, you will get rusty.
Reading and weeping opens the door to one’s heart, but writing and weeping opens the window to one’s soul.
I get up in the morning, torture a typewriter until it screams, then stop.
Ever heard of a carpenter not going to work because he has “carpenter’s block”? If a writer can’t write, it’s because he doesn’t really want to, he isn’t ready to get it on paper or he’s just plain lazy.
The most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words when one will do.
























