It takes a certain amount of selfishness
to be a writer.

Like your teenage granddaughter,
you have to ignore everyone around you,
lock yourself in your room,
refuse to speak,
eyes on screen,
fingers tapping furiously

Like your cat,
you can’t be bothered
by someone else’s attitude,
by nos and do nots.

Like your dog,
demand to be let in the door,
to be fed.

It’s not always about someone else–
lover, friend, the needy, your child,
that insistent dog.
Sometimes it has to be about you
and the story you must write.

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