It's been a couple months, but here I am, and without much to say. I'm thinking instead about what Hemingway said about Dostoyevsky in A Moveable Feast. Something along the lines of "how can a person write so poorly and make you feel so deeply?"
This is a beautiful question, and it only goes to show you how much more important the feeling part of writing is than the intellect part. Of course they join somewhere, but the best writing is felt; when you have to climb up into your brain (even momentarily) and think about what you're reading, the dream has been accosted and something's been lost in translation.
This is especially true in poetry and fiction. I'm not talking about anything else. I bring this up is because I consider myself a feeling (maybe overly-feeling?) person, yet for years I wrote for the mind when I should've been writing for the senses.
A terrible mistake.
Nothing ever translated
except a lot of bird-dung;
promise
I won't do it again.
