The best stuff I have ever written were words that came bounding forth without thought. When characters loom in dark corners, emerging slowly from shadow and whisper, they are revealed in chaotic perfection. When I think of an idea for a story, barely the bones arrange themselves on the paper. The characters stand nervous before the reader in forced introduction. They tell of how they feel; they show nothing. The gaunt players are directed ignorantly through a course of events, yielding to declare their desire and yearning. The best stuff I have ever written sprung from my side. I finger my pockets inattentively for flaws in the seems, and find smooth stones. I retrieve them to discover they’re clear; they harbor worlds. In this world my pen seeks solace from explanation and analysis.
Anna’s Desk:I am a writer, a novelist. I write in a berry-colored room on a green sofa, or in any coffee shop in West Houston. My objective here is to elaborate on the process, trials, books, and events that pertain to writing, but mostly it's my quiet little wonderland. Please leave comments and check back soon!
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room of requirement