Excuses

     Many people tell me they’d love to write.
     “You can,” I say.
     That’s when they grow evasive. Mortgage. School fees. New pool. (“We won’t really have a back yard once it’s in. Pain in the ass, but the kids...”) They change the subject quickly then. Of course they could write (or paint or sculpt). It’s all about choices. The status of a ten dollar title, bags of cash, and winter trips to Vail; or the uncertainty, the solitude, the insecurity of doing what you love. Giving up the Blackberry is not the end of the world; it’s just the beginning.