I cleaned off my desk today. These are a few pages I pulled from a stack of paper two inches tall. They’re what lawyers call work product. Drafts, edits, notes. I type all my novels and stories on a computer. But at some point, I always print out what I’m working on and attack it with a pen or pencil.
What you see here is the interior of my mind, spilled onto letter-size paper. Maybe that’s why I’m holding onto it so firmly.