A few years ago, when I was still in school, I found this injured albino ferret lying in the trees by the riverside. After I picked it up and took it to safety it stared at me. It had round, blood-red eyes. It promised me all the ideas in the world, and all I had to do was make a contract with it.
As it turns out, I wasted my wish. Ideas are a dime a dozen. It’s the execution that’s the hardest part.
Posted in: About Writing