“Rituals are a good signal to your unconscious that it is time to kick in.”

“Try looking at your mind as a wayward puppy that you are trying to paper train. You don't drop-kick a puppy into the neighbor's yard every time it piddles on the floor. You just keep bringing it back to the newspaper.”

“But how?" my students ask. "How do you actually do it?" You sit down, I say. You try to sit down at approximately the same time every day. This is how you train your unconscious to kick in for you creatively. So you sit down at, say, nine every morning, or ten every night. You put a piece of paper in the typewriter, or you turn on the computer and bring up the right file, and then you stare at it for an hour or so. You begin rocking, just a little at first, and then like a huge autistic child. You look at the ceiling, and over at the clock, yawn, and stare at the paper again. Then, with your fingers poised on the keyboard, you squint at an image that is forming in your mind -- a scene, a locale, a character, whatever -- and you try to quiet your mind so you can hear what that landscape or character has to say above the other voices in your mind.”

“I don't think you have time to waste not writing because you are afraid you won't be good at it.”

“Living on earth has always been a dangerous way to spend your time.”

“Being a writer guarantees that you will spend too much time alone -- and that as a result, your mind will begin to warp.”

“This is one thing they forget to mention in most child-rearing books, that at times you will just lose your mind. Period. ”