MARK TWAIN VISITS
Here we go again. I have no idea where the words will take me. I’m going to conjure up Mark Twain for help.
Mark? Mark Twain?
Wow, that was fast! I see you’re still wearing that white three-piece suit.
“I love this suit, and I will wear it forever.”
It becomes you. Now the reason I called you—
The reason I called is . . . can you tell me what to write?
“I can, but I won’t.”
“Because you know what to write.”
“Yes, you do. But you called me for help, and what I will say will help you.”
Okay, I’m listening.
“I have complete confidence in you, and that you know what to write.”
Uh? That’s it?
“What? You’re not impressed that I, Mark Twain, have complete confidence in your writing ability?”
I am, thank you, but I was hoping that you would dictate to me; that I could channel you or something.
“And take the fun away from you creating?”
I admit that I dread writing before I start, but once I start I have lots of fun.
“See? And I do not want rob you of that fun. It’s the joy of creating! You’re letting adult propaganda get the better of you when you dread starting to write. How many children dread starting to play?”
“How many children dread starting to play?”
You’re right. Why would I dread starting to play?
“I have to go, another creator calls for inspiration.”
Thank you for your help.