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October 16, 2013
I have no more writer friends anymore. Oh, I have friends who write--one, even, who wrote a book--but given that this is not their prime concern in life, I don't really consider them "writers".

I miss my old Twin State writer friends, the ones whose subsistence and sanity relied on daily word-on-page. Those who wrote through pain, sobriety (and inebriation), creative block, financial constraints, personal drama, bad reviews and rejection letters. The ones who would humor me, listen to quaint 100 word snippets, and let me pretend for a while that I was one of them.