There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
— Ernest Hemingway
There have been times when I sat down and the words flowed as easily as the beagle’s margaritas sliding down my throat. Other times, it’s been like my attempts at baking…soppy, wet, sludgy things that by any other name, by any other cook, would be a cake.
How ’bout it…do you bleed, or do your stories flow forth with ease? Me ‘n Ernie…we be mates.