I’m currently reading Anne Lamott’s Bird By Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. In every writing text I read, I tend to find something useful, but this is the first book during which I am literally screaming, “THAT’S ME! THAT’S ME!” every other page. Between the copious amounts of highlighter and scream spit gathering on this book, I doubt I’ll ever re-sell it.
Not that I would want to.
Lamott validates a lot of the writer neuroticisms I struggle with: the perfectionism, the desire to write a whole book in one day, the assorted critical voices that descend up you and machete your self-esteem into ribbons as soon as your fingers hit the keyboard.
