Writing is Easy

I believe (perhaps a superstition) that there is nothing heroic about writing.  To lay down sentences well is not prize-worthy, nor evidence of some hard-won dominance; here we neglect the stealth impact of favorable circumstances and happy accidents.  Craft might be little more than the distillation of properly attuned priorities so aligned, and with circumstances so calibrated, that the act of dreaming through language gushes freely.  If only we find a way to siphon out our daily lives and its seepage of deadlines, quotas, commercial aspirations and the smack of erudition; the less those things matter, the more simply the writing comes. They are the bane of the unfortunate writers who ascribe duties beyond the bricolage pleasures of language. To be a writer at all, makes up half the battle.  With the scaffolds of self and industry dismantled and the door to distractions firmly closed, with ample time and patience to perform, the writing of writing comes easy.  As heroic as a watermelon ripe and round and ready under optimal conditions.