Every time I sit down to write, I wonder whether or not I’ll be able to do it again. Can I reach my hand up into nothingness and capture words and situations? Will I be able to invent people with feelings, whole lives, hopes and dreams? Can I then assemble it all so that it makes sense?
What this all really comes down to is whether or not I can LIE. Oh yes, you know it’s true. Us writers? We’re all liars.
Either that or we’re gods and since I don’t feel like getting struck down, I’ll take liar.