Imagination Under Pressure

PEOPLE generally want more—of everything. More money, more space, more time, more love, more recognition, more fun. Our “more mind-set” is spawned by many things: the thirst to maximize our self-fulfillment, the seductions of further pleasures, the abundance of nearly everything one could ever want in America. The desire for more seeps into our expectations of our creative process as well. If you talk to other writers, you’ll likely hear complaints about their lack of time to write. They yearn for a utopian idyll where time is expansive and unfettered, without worries about paying bills, making meals, or working—a pure time to write and nothing else.

I am such a writer. If I had my druthers, I wouldn’t shop for groceries or even put gas in the car. I’d reside in a completely pampered life in which I could wake up and write every day, cushioned from reality—and then, and only then, would I truly realize the resplendency of my creative potential and write the novel of my dreams.

Instead, like most, my writ ing life is a cramped and hectic affair. I work all day, return home