Wheresoe’er I turn my view,
All is strange, yet nothing new;
Endless labour all along,
Endless labour to be wrong;
Phrase that Time has flung away,
Uncouth words in disarray:
Trickt in antique ruff and bonnet,
Ode and elegy and sonnet.
“What I usually have is a strong sense of at least one of the central characters and a strong sense of the beginning, and a vague sense of where the narrative is going, and more than anything else a psychic head of steam, a compulsion to tell the story. If I don’t feel so compelled, I’m better off waiting. Beginning too soon only prolongs the writing more than anything.”
Steve Erickson