If Annie said it, I believe it. And she, of course, meant writing.

It is hard not to constantly compare other writers to Anne Lamott, she who thinks of things so ordinary as the eagle on your credit card as a way to help us aspiring writers know what we shouldn’t be chasing.

I’m reading a book on writing by a writer who is new to me, and again, I think always and often of Annie as I read. I know there is room in the world for us all to have our voices, so I must keep trying to let Dani be Dani.

Dani Shapiro bursts the balloon of publication achievement in her own way.

The point is that publication cannot be the point. It isn’t worth it to write for that reason. It helps me to hear other writers, published writers, say this in their various ways so I won’t forget.

The blank page this week was not easy to come to. Annie always says we own what happens to us, but sometimes I get tired of thinking about and talking about what has happened to me. At moments, I feel like nothing I have to say is interesting any more, and who cares whether or not I blog?

But I press on because I’m a writer, and writing has saved me, is saving me, and will save me. It it one of the realest things I know and I plant my feet firmly in it again today. The eagle may soar but I have landed at my writing desk in order to do what is mine to do.