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Where to Begin? (again)

I believed, like any novice writer, I was a writer apart from other writers. Isn’t that the belief of us all? In fact, I’m unable to embrace other writers totally because I believed, falsely, that I held the secret. In the end, of course, I have found it to be ego at work.

There are chasms of differences between believing oneself a writer and knowing how to write. In the act of writing, I had managed, vainly, to convince…