Astropus

Writers have to learn to, as either Ginsberg or Faulkner put it, “kill your darlings” — to viciously excise those self indulgent bits of plot or character or (much more often in my case) sentence or diction. It’s a lesson that is not much fun to learn, but any working writer is undoubtedly a mass-murder of darlings. A certified spree killer.

But sometimes I just can’t pull the trigger. Read the rest of this entry »