writer
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I have a fear. A gripping fear that I think about late at night when I realize another day has gone by and the only words I’ve pieced together were about someone else’s work. When I curl up in bed, ready to fall asleep so tomorrow will come, but not ready because it means today
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Being a nonfiction writer has been my reason for not writing. “I don’t have any assignments,” she says, her voice raising from her throat to her nose. That excuse doesn’t cut it. If I am a writer, it’s because writing is an essential part of my being, it makes me who I am. If I
Meredith Sell 