A Writer

A writer, I say, must have not only a story to tell but a story that he must tell. And, in order to do so, he must struggle to find a voice. Whether he works for or against the natural iambic meter of the English language, the writer must be in love with language, with the words themselves, the sound of the words on the page, the music they make in meaning. He must love them not so much in order to express the self as to discover a self, and, through it, his province, his territory, the territory of his story.