Writing is hard, incredibly hard and if you overcame the romantic idea of an author sitting at a candlelit table, with a quill in his hand, bent over a pile of papers (a computer nowadays), and if you ever tried to write more than one thousand words day after day you know what I mean. Also listen to the masters:
Once upon the time or so the tale begins…
Last night it was hot and my apartment at the last floor seemed to flow on the hell’s rivers and I tried again the old remedy of submerging myself in another place. With a book in my hands, lying in bed, a cup of green tea by the side, I was turning the pages and following the words trying not to get asleep or let my mind wander, but by the minute I felt the hideous face of errancy taking over.
Or it wasn’t hideous at all?
Write books only if you are going to say in them the things you would never dare confide to anyone
Writing is hard….Coal mining is harder. Do you think miners stand around all day talking about how hard it is to mine for coal? They do not. They simply dig.