I’m waiting for the day some interviewer asks, “Why do you write?”
To which I will respond:
“Imagine if you will a young writer banging away at a manual Army typewriter in the middle of the night. As might be expected of an away-from-home teenaged soldier, the writing was adventurous and salacious.
“Then imagine panning up from that typewriter to see another soldier standing by, poised the grab the page the moment it is finished.
“Imagine that standing soldier then voraciously reading the fresh page as the typing resumes. Pan around the room to see perhaps a half dozen other soldiers seated in chairs along the walls and all of them either reading a page just handed them, passing off a page to the next guy in line, or waiting empty-handed and eager for another page to be passed along to them.”
And then I expect the interviewer to follow up with: “Why in the hell did you ever stop writing?”