Every once in awhile I have a semi-deep thought. I often compare writing to digging ditches. The idea, to me, is that the artistry doesn’t come into the process until much later. I think digging for coal is an even better comparison. We have to grunt and crawl our way into the subconscious layers and the semi-conscious ones banging away with our picks at the rock until the coal comes loose then haul it all back to the surface. It isn’t until the rewriting and the compressing of language that we finally come out with a diamond.
Or do we come out with a greenhouse gas producing fuel? Hmmm… better rethink that comparison.