Is Your Art Saving You?
My mother used to say that if I learned to type I would always have a job. Happily, I was intuitive enough to replace type with write early on. I didn’t know I would be a writer. In fact, I was afraid to claim that identity for many years because I didn’t think I was a real writer, not like the ones who wrote the books and plays that I adored. Writing for me was a tool for survival. I don’t remember when I started to use a pen to form sentences, but I do remember my first journal. It had a...