Let the Morning Time Drop All its Petals on Me

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Beginning, middle and end. Pick your poison. For me starting is always the best. The moment I get a title or a first line in my head, I feel like a racehorse at the starting line. It’s this infusion of adrenaline and excitement. Most of the time, I don’t get far, but for the few moments before the idea fizzles, I’m my most happy. Writing is a brilliant cocktail of ego, narcissism, and the rush of making something out of nothing. It’s like a hunk of clay moving beneath your hands, a climbing wall, a pool table with balls racked. It’s a cigarette slowly burning, an empty swing with a violent back story, a pair of shoes, a bit of wind

How do you get started?

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