It’s reassuring to learn, as the Times told us yesterday, that John Updike got kicked out of his freshman creative writing class at Harvard because he didn’t write well enough.
Luckily for us, that didn’t stop him. He always knew he had to write, no matter what they said.
Writing is an odd compulsion. It’s kind of like alcoholism, but in reverse. If you’re an alcoholic, you take one day at a time: today, no drink. Tomorrow, no drink.
For me, if I don’t write one day, it’s like oh well then, why write tomorrow? Or the next day?
Today, write. Tomorrow, write. Why? I’m not sure, except that it feels so good when it’s done. Just like the alcoholic’s drinkless day.