To be honest, the only reason I write various stuff is because I want share my thoughts with others and hear something in reply. Doing this, however, slowly but steadily makes me dig into writing – you know, THAT writing, with a capital W.
So, now that I have some practice, I can say something about it. Or, more precisely, about my paradoxical approach to dealing with it.
Believe it or not, I think that there isn’t anything less related to writing than a pen and a notebook. OK, a typewriter (okay, okay – a computer).
When I write, I need to think about what I write about – not about writing, and immerse myself in those thoughts like they are what is actually happening to me. I imagine that and the picture must be so bright in my imagination that it would make me forget that I’m actually just sitting there banging on my laptop’s keyboard, and only if I manage to keep it going like this until the whole piece is finished, I can say that it’s worth being published.