It’s late, and I’m quite tired, but I decided (in the car on the way home from gaming, if you must know) that I must blog. And then I had a thought, very clearly: “have to feed the beast.”
I found that supremely interesting. I know a lot of writers have this mental image of a small voice inside them that tells them stories. Laura Mixon even talks to hers; she had a name for it at VP, but darned if I can remember what she called it.1
Suddenly I realized, nothing small about my inner voice. My inner voice is a snarling, slavering thing that wants nothing more than to slip its chain and tear some shit up.
So I write to feed the beast. Which made me think, hmm, if writing is feeding the beast, what does it eat?
Whitespace.
1 Just remembered: she called it “her beast.” Dumbass.
Hah! Funny stuff.
Though all that whitespace is really unhealthy. You should try whole wheat space — much better for the beast’s long-term health.