“Writers Write” by Richard F. Yates

Margaret Atwood, in her book Negotiating with the Dead (I’ll review that one real soon), claimed that writers write out of a fear of DEATH. As I read that book, I agreed with her. At the moment, though, it feels like I’m writing out of a compulsion—some weird DRIVE to entertain myself. (Not a very mature impulse, but I don’t give a shit.)

I can’t speak for ALL writers or even for all the times when I, myself, write, but at THIS MOMENT, I’m writing because I love putting words onto paper. [Editor’s note: This bit was originally written on a scrap of waste paper.] These aren’t important words—not MONUMENTAL THOUGHTS that MUST be recorded… I don’t eve care if the words make sense—or rhyme—or convey meaning of any kind. I write just for the joy of it.

—Richard F. Yates
(Primitive Thoughtician and Grand Hoohaa of The P.E.W.)


About richardfyates

Compulsive creator of the bizarre and absurd. (Artist, writer, poet, provocateur...)
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