That first faltering draft so necessary, telling ourselves at least part of the story. Sympathizing with our softer selves, easily misconstrued as self-indulgence.
The trick is in firing up the rocket, blasting ourselves beyond our comfort zones into the Other (hostile? hungry? quake-ravaged? ) Territory of Someone Else.
Think of it, though: zero gravity. Floating from predictable boundaries. The outer limits. A cup of coffee spilling to the ceiling.
By the power of the imagination, being outside the box.