'Why haven't you done anything with the book you wrote last year?' My son asked me.
'Because it's not important. I needed to write it but the world doesn't need it.'
'I would read it.'
'You can't because it's not published. I'm not publishing it.'
This is the nub of the matter for a writer; importance. I know it's hard to confess it. But it's true.
It's only a sense of its 'importance' that will drive you all the way to the end to publishing that book. Or it is with me.
I have wrestled with myself to pinpoint the importance of the book I am writing. At first I began wanting it to be adorable, then I knew it had to also be important but I was only half sure why. After all, why should my time on this earth, my experience, my opinions lead me to any discoveries or convictions or ideas of any importance to others?
I had a premise and a plan for the book, and was armed with materials and ideas thanks to the studies of the Classic course which would stand a chance of the work...
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