Stephen King on Writing
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Rarely has a book so clear, so useful, and so revealing. On Writing begins with a mesmerizing account of Kind’s childhood and his uncannily early focus on writing to tell a story.
For years I dreamed of having the sort of massive oak slab tat would dominate a room… In 1981 I got the on I wanted and placed it in the middle of a spacious, sky-lighted study in the rear of the house. For six years I sat behind that desk either drunk or wrecked out of my mind…. A year or two after I sobered up, I got rid of that monstrosity and put in a living-room suite where it had been… In the early nineties, before they moved on to their own lives, my kids some-times came up in the evening to watch a basketball game or a movie and eat pizza.. I got another desk- It’s hand made, beautiful, and half the size of the T. rex desk. I put it at the far end of the office, in a corner under the eave… I’m sitting under it now, a fifty-three-year-old man with bad eyes, a gimp leg, and no hangover. I’m doing what I know how to do, and as well as I know how to do it. I came through all the stuff I told you about… and now I’m going to tell you as much as I can about the job….. It starts with this: put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down there to write, remind yourself why it isn’t in the middle of the room. Life isn’t a support-system for art. it’s the other way around.
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