On the extra special aspect of why we write.
"It is the conjoint effort of author and reader which brings upon the scene that concrete and imaginary object which is the work of the mind. " - Sartre
The cave is dark, slightly damp, with a smell of earth and of something that is a little bit rotten and a little bit like life. Dragging a finger through the remnants of an old fire, black lines on the tip, the fine particles fall from my skin and disappear into the air; but I've... Continue Reading →
Why do we read? And why do we write?