On the other hand, if it was a blacker day, I used the whole not-writing thing as evidence that I wasn’t a “real writer”—“real writers” being people who wake up in the morning and grab pen and paper like they’re bread and water. (I don’t define “real writers” like this anymore, mostly because of a compulsive writing-procrastination habit of mine—collecting stories of great writers who hated writing. If you’re a writer, I highly suggest this incredibly soothing pastime, as it turns out it’s almost all of them.)
