One of the things that attracted me to writing was the whole image of the author thing. Turtleneck, pipe (not so much with the war on tobacco), tweed jacket, rumpled pants. But most of all the lonely iconoclast — someone who disappears for months at a shot, has incredible adventures fighting bulls or whatever, then re-appears with a book that strikes at the falsehoods of society.
Man, that’s cool.
But its not what I’ve found to be the case. Writing is a communal project. People have to read the stuff.
Before even that, folks have to edit it, illustrate it, design a cover for it, agent it (that’d be nice), publish it, distribute it, so that pretentious nose ring wearing kids can ring you out at Borders.
The problem with writing is not that it’s lonely — it’s that it’s so crowded!
Morty
The Weirdling 
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