tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4170339037090119639.post5378783911059683964..comments2023-04-15T03:36:39.554-07:00Comments on TheWritings and Musings of Kent Winward: ON BEING HUMANAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09193356052072012193noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4170339037090119639.post-31119637478933202072008-11-16T13:57:00.000-08:002008-11-16T13:57:00.000-08:00You leave me breathless with your words. You can't...You leave me breathless with your words. You can't ever say to me you are not a writer, and your words will explode from pages to someone out there someday. As they have and always have, for me.<BR/><BR/>You know this--writing from the underbelly is easy. Tell Henry to get a wife, a job, 5 kids and a white picket fence. Tell him to do the laundry, pick up the salad from the store on his way home and then, after the 6 year old is tucked in, find the mojo and fodder to write about the underbelly.<BR/><BR/>He is great; but I'd venture a guess that location, location, location has many things to do with many of those greats. You have a set of challenges he never had: you have that shining life with the clean stuccoed walls and therein lies the dangers of corruption. You will have to fight the beast, fight being consumed, fight the snake. You have the biggest fight a writer must face ahead of you: peace.<BR/><BR/>And you have me.JulieAnnhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02905677646104943660noreply@blogger.com