Experience is at the heart of it
Nothing is extraneous.
All of it,
mundane and joyous,
the ecstasy and the failure,
the whole unearned exhilarating lot of it
gathered up into this unassuming handful of words.
Elizabeth Campbell, a Mannheim house on the banks of the Arroyo in Pasadena. Saturday treks down into the canyon, wild then, sycamores and a swimming stream, Father leading the way. Stanford University, then my own family, and a house we built ourselves in Newport Beach when it was still nothing more than a small beach town. But the center of my life always was and is now, the experience of writing. I have never lost the joy of it.
0 comments on “The Writing Life”