-
foroncenotforgotten reblogged this from bellegaijin
-
snapshotsofme reblogged this from mickbetancourt
-
landlessness liked this
-
bellegaijin liked this
-
laugh-at-yourself liked this
-
envisionpublishing liked this
-
loveisnotlove liked this
-
sososhenzhen liked this
-
djgunn liked this
-
averagejoeproductions reblogged this from mickbetancourt
-
averagejoeproductions liked this
-
leat reblogged this from solidair
-
mygreengiraffe liked this
-
girlyguts liked this
-
charliehalter liked this
-
i-can-breathe liked this
-
kasukasumoe liked this
-
vwswrite liked this
-
fancyseeingyouhere liked this
-
multicoloredpenguinsandsocks liked this
-
jasabela liked this
-
litemagic liked this
-
warsawed liked this
-
becomingbrina liked this
-
beauvoiriana liked this
-
makenewwords liked this
-
mcspinsta liked this
-
letgrillbegrill liked this
-
rahjuurah liked this
-
wholovestv liked this
-
saintjust liked this
-
wellwhenigo liked this
-
macguffin liked this
-
disfagia liked this
-
ourintertwiningstars liked this
-
onehundreddollars liked this
-
sobrieties liked this
-
hbic-extraordinaire liked this
-
virginiawiles liked this
-
katskradlexx liked this
-
autobiographyofaninsanity liked this
-
socalfeminist liked this
-
sav3mys0ul liked this
-
bodyentire liked this
-
searchinganswers liked this
-
creativelybored liked this
-
erudite-in-dauntless liked this
-
dollfacexox23 liked this
-
wendybird liked this
-
beautarie liked this
- Show more notes
Ernest Hemingway - The Art of Fiction No. 21
George Plimpton: When do you work? Do you keep to a strict schedule?
Hemingway: When I am working on a book or a story I write every morning as soon after first light as possible. There is no one to disturb you and it is cool or cold and you come to your work and warm as you write. You read what you have written and, as you always stop when you know what is going to happen next, you go on from there. You write until you come to a place where you still have your juice and know what will happen next and you stop and try to live through until the next day when you hit it again. You have started at six in the morning, say, and may go on until noon or be through before that. When you stop you are as empty, and at the same time never empty but filling, as when you have made love to someone you love. Nothing can hurt you, nothing can happen, nothing means anything until the next day when you do it again. It is the wait until the next day that is hard to get through.
This just made me tear up a little.
(Source: theparisreview.org)