[As a special feature for the time I’m on vacation, Bare Knuckle Writer is bringing you Guest Posts by
random mental patients friends of mine. Be nice to them.]
I want to be a writer.
Cool. Then write. Goal accomplished.
No, for real. One of the many beautiful things about writing is that anyone* can.
You want to be a pilot? That, my friend, will be an expensive process. Want to be in a rock band? You need other people who share your vision. Olympic gymnast? I hope the gods gave you a flexible spine. And possibly a severe eating disorder.
But you have to be in fairly dire straights not to be able to get your hands on pen and paper. And if you’re reading this post: my friend, you are not in those straights.
No, I mean a writer
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