I mentioned (on the phone) to Lynda, the following, from CJ Cherryh's Progress Report (actually of her last book, not her current):

Y'know, writers are strange people. We can't tell a non-writer why we're glum (story isn't happening) or in a wonderful mood (it's ripping along.) No wonder there are so many divorces when a person suddenly becomes a writer and launches into that lifestyle bigtime. No wonder writer-types don't correspond or return phone calls for months, and then suffer guilt and further procrastination. But right just above [she was writing about declining a party invitation because of the havoc it would wreak with the book], you have the whole tale of the reasons why. We're not manic-depressive. But we sure look like it. And a person who isn't self-confident and self-entertaining with a lot of personal passions and distractions, particularly one who begins to feel neglected and resentful when a writer-spouse is locked in story, is in trouble. If you've ever wondered why writers and artists tend to domicile together, here you have it. One of us emerges from quarters in the morning, snaps: "Don't talk to me," walks to the kitchen, gets a drink, and dives back into own room: is that a fight? A snit? No, not at all. The other one thinks, Oh, how wonderful. Story's going. And says not a word and is only envious.

posted by Anonymous at 23:10   comment? e-mail lynda@okalrel.org 0 comments