There's a quotation I once heard attributed to Ernest Hemingway (although I can't prove he said it): "There are two kinds of writers. Those who want to write and those who want to have written." I think most writers are a bit of both. We write because we want to, like to, have to, need to, can't help ourselves, or some combination thereof. Writing is both an involuntary act of self-expression and a voluntary act of self-control. It is both wild abandon and willful articulation, yin and yang, revelation and disguise.
This blog will attempt to tackle writing from both inside out and outside in. Every writer knows both: the something inside us that drives us to commit words to paper (or screen) and the something outside of us that keeps our noses pressed to glass straining to get a glimpse of what we don't know, the something that constantly eludes us, the movement we see peripherally that tantalizes us with the promise of what could be if only we were a little better, a little more consistent, a little more prolific.
Writing is a pleasure when it's going well and a chore when it isn't. It's Mark Twain's imbalance of inspiration and perspiration. It's the subject of this blog. I'm not trying to prove anything, convince anyone of anything or do more than what every writer tries to do -- enjoy both the process of writing and the sense of accomplishment that comes with having written.