I haven't written anything lately, but I've been thinking about writing a lot. A thought occurred to me yesterday that I'm still trying to flesh out, so I hope I don't look too silly or inarticulate when I say this. It's probably been said before about writing and other art forms, but I've never heard it anywhere before and I'd really like to share it, so here it is: I'm wondering if, maybe, the best place a writer can possibly come from, as far as their motivation for putting pen to paper is concerned, is to look at their work as a gift to the world, a totally gratuitous act of love. To just write from the desire to birth something into the world that is earnest, from the bottom of your heart, like a lover saying “Here is something beautiful I’ve made for you!” Not because he hopes to gain anything from it, but because he loves her. I know a guy whose wife was in a coma (she‘s dead now), but he loved her so much he was constantly at her bedside doing little things for her and telling her how much he loved her. He gained nothing from this; it was a completely unnecessary act of love. I think that’s a good example of what I’m getting at here. If one can approach their art in this way, then it shouldn’t matter what the critics say. If they like it, great! Then they’re one of the ones you wrote it for. You gave them something and it improved their lives in some way. If not, then that’s fine, too; you already got everything you wanted, just by giving them something from your heart in a pure spirit. I think that’s how I’m going to approach this whole writing thing from now on. I’m just going to try and birth beautiful things into the world because I love the world, and people can publish it, praise it, throw it in the garbage or ignore it entirely. If there is constructive criticism, then cool, that will make me better at something I love. But my satisfaction will come from the giving, and I believe my writing will be better for this. Well, yeah. That’s all I have to say about that. Thanks for reading.