I’m relatively new to writing, at least in a public forum, so I still freeze up when someone asks me about my blog. It’s scary enough for me to utter the terrifying words “I am a writer”, but when I do finally spit them out it’s awkward. Either I mutter under my breath incoherently or shout abruptly a couple decibels above what would be expected during polite conversation.
Hey, there’s a reason I hide behind a computer.
If I haven’t frightened people off with my uncomfortable announcement, then I am inevitably faced with a slew of questions for which I am entirely unprepared.
How can I explain the feeling of satisfaction and release I get from writing to non-writers? Wait, I’ve got it:
Writing is like sex.
