I think I'm going to print out this post over at nakedauthors.com and tape on the cabinet over my computer. It tells the story of Nancy Davenport, a member of the writers group to which blog contributor Jacqueline Winspear belongs. Nancy, 72 years old, was working on a memoir when she was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease.
As she lost the ability to speak, Jacqueline writes, so her voice on the page became louder – and still she came to class until she could walk no more.
Nancy finished the book, and actually got to hold it in her hands a few days before she died.
Too tired to write? Not really feeling well, so maybe you'll write tomorrow? Just not all that inspired today?
Bite me.
To Nancy Davenport: a writer with cojones bigger'n my head.
1 comment:
I didn't write much of anything during the last two days because of pain from a root-canal. That lady's story makes me feel like an absolute pussy, so I have to write twice as much tonight.
It's like that Robert Earl Keen song says:
"I am guilty of a dreadful selfish crime / I have robbed myself of all my precious time."
Now I'm going to shut up and get back to work.
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