The writer’s life usually consists of coffee rings and papers strewn over every visible area of free space. It’s not that we’re a messy lot; we know where everything is, but we just don’t feel like filing it all away. Writers and hoarders….
But today …
Today I went ahead and started to file.
It’s not that I felt like doing it; the piles just got too high and things were starting to fall onto the dog-haired carpet.
As writers, we work kind of the same way with words. We write when we feel like it, and then when the words inside us start to spill over we make ourselves sit down and organize all those thoughts into neat little stories so that we can clear some space for more thoughts. That way we can fool ourselves into thinking that we are not up for the next Woarders show …
You heard me: Writing + hoarders. Woarders. I’m a genius.
Tell all your friends this was my idea so that when Hollywood calls me to talk about my new reality show, I can send you all flowers. Remember, as the cliché goes, you heard it from me first.