It appears that the grey skies and short days of winter are not just rough on writers. Imagine that. Admittedly, I didn’t think I’d find solidarity for my winter wonderland writing woes at the Eastern Market crepe stand. Then again, no one else shares the same passion for nutella with me…words, words, so many words, and what order we say or write or think or breathe them says it all or says nothing. Such hope and loss at the same time. If you say what you mean, will the reader see what you believe or get lost in what you think?
And if you have no idea what I’m talking about, you’re reading the wrong blog. Write on writers and read on readers. And eat a crepe along the way. It helps bridge the holes between the spaces.
*Mitchell’s crepe stand at Eastern Market this past Saturday.
