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Writing is a solitary pursuit--the imagination guiding the hand moving the pen. I'm pretty old-school, valuing the work of good editors and the revisions process before letting my words go public. But life is short, right? And sometimes, just sometimes, we need to spout off.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Settings

What places in your memory stir characters, voices?
If not for such places, our stories might have no roots.
Stones, rock walls, trees. Common edifices of the imagination:
how these grow and mutate and, sometimes, never change.
Signposts. Starting places and ending places.
The roar of a word, laughter, a scent.
The feel of something solid under the palm.

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