“How do you learn to write? You sit your ass down in a chair, in front of a laptop, for ten years. Period.”

“Sit down on your ass, or what's left of it after four years in the navy.”

“friends will sit your ass down and give you the 'Come To Jesus' talk when you need it most.”

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

“How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.”

“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.”