This week I’ve had to face an unsettling truth about myself.

I’ve always held the above words in a certain awe. I think they’re two of the most important words every conceived by man (right up there with “Do Unto Others”–but that’s another blog).

Basically, it translates to,

“Know Thyself”.

It’s always been one of my mantras. I don’t like pretense, have a hatred of lies. To lie to myself would, as a result, be abhorrent to me.

I must, therefore, be honest. I can’t ignore it, can’t avoid it, can’t pretend it isn’t true anymore. And I might as well confess it here.

I write better with a pen and paper than I do with a keyboard.

This is NOT as trivial a matter as it might seem. I’m a slow writer. I need all the advantages I can get. And I type MUCH faster than I write by hand.
So this is very disturbing.
I’ve been pecking away on a novella all week. The results have consisted of sentences like, ‘he did this…he said that…he went there…she also did that…’

But two days ago, I picked up a legal pad and pen–and the stuff just FLOWED.
Hell, what’s next? Fountain pens? Quills? Clay tablets??!!

Anybody out there have ‘writing handicaps’? Hang-ups? Demons??
What do you do about them?!!