During my early twenties, if my weird fiction was imitative, with an occasional surprise of a concept and a further surprise in execution, my science-fiction writing was abysmal, and my detective fiction verged on the ludicrous.

All during my twenties I had the following schedule.  On Monday morning I wrote the first draft of a new story.  On Tuesday I did a second draft.  On Wednesday a third.  On Thursday a fourth. On Friday a fifth. And on Saturday at noon I mailed out the sixth and final draft to New York. Sunday? I thought about all the wild ideas scrambling for my attention…

My ideas drove me [to writing], you see.  The more I did, the more I wanted to do.  You grow ravenous. You run fevers.  You know exhilarations.  You can’t sleep at night, because your beast-creature ideas want out and turn you in your bed. It is a grand way to live.

Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing

What wisdom and truth and hope! This inspires me.

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