You know that fiction, prose rather, is possibly the roughest trade of >>
There is no lonelier man in death, except the suicide, than that man w >>
Somebody just back of you while you are fishing is as bad as someone l >>
No pen, no ink, no table, no room, no time, no quiet, no inclination. >>
Let's face it, writing is hell. >>
The more books we read, the clearer it becomes that the true function >>
Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer's loneliness, but I doubt if they improve his writing. He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day.