I wrote a couple of entries ago about writing as pleasure. This is not meant to be a philosophical or psychological disquisition. It’s just an attempt to assure you that writing can be, even should be, a pleasure.
If Freud, bless Herr Freud, talked about the pleasure principle, you see, he was talking about the instinctual pursuit of gratification. But it doesn’t take a WHOLE lot of sublimation to raise us above the level of the gutter, as some would have it.
Writers have written in gutters, of course, of economic circumstances, or libidinal, but whatever their original ground, or inclination, they tend to rise above their circumstances. And with enough heat generated by the effort of writing itself, of saying something new in a new way, the old cold reluctance melts away and a new day breaks, like a yolk, on the horizon of consciousness.
Practice doesn’t necessarily make perfect, no. But it sure as hell makes you warm!
Play ball!
