Red Room Where the Writers Are

I will not complain.  I will not complain.  I will not complain.  Okay, maybe I'll vent (i.e. complain) just a little.  I haven't been a writer long enough to remember the good old days when all writers had to do was write and hold a conversation every once in a while with an editor.  I have heard about them and I would love to experience them if only for a moment.  I love to write.  I love to sit at my computer and watch unsuspecting words appear before my eyes.  I don't want to talk about my writing.  I just want people to love it.  I want to labor over grammar rules, challenging myself to know them without consulting a reference guide.  I want to re-read the last paragraph, divorce myself of ownership, and then decide if I were to read it somewhere else whether I would think it worthy of my time.  I really don't want to talk about my writing process.  I just want people to appreciate that it exists.  For those who were actually there during the good old days, you probably laugh at my rosy view of a Writer's (I conscientiously chose to ignore that rule) life.  Know that I realize that I have over simplified the truth.  Whatever the reality of a writer's responsibility then, I am fully aware of my responsibility now.  As a result, I kindly shake every interested reader's hand, intently listen to the stories of those yet to take the plunge into the commitment to write and earnestly say thank you to every person who chooses to read my work.  After all, I could just as easily still be writing only for my imaginary fan - DaDa.