Welcome to my writer’s shrine.
We all need hope, faith, and love as writers. We all need to believe in the power of our words, even if everything else in our life is telling us “nah.”
Talismans, symbols, icons, saints.
Gifts from friends who love us well.
From the ether and in the electricity of the unseen, the great Cloud of thoughts, something’s got to manifest.
I cling to these somethings.
So what do you think was in Hemingway’s,
Fitzgerald’s, Wolfe’s, shrines? How about Stephen King’s?
I’m afraid to think of what lurks in King’s, but no doubt, it’s interesting! I’d say there has to be an empty bottle or two in these guys’ shrines. And some shred of a bullfighter’s cape in Hemingway’s.