“If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive.”
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How do we write? Where do we do it and how do we feel when we try to do it? What are all the microcosms that we touch when we write?--When we are forced to migrate between all these different systems at once, and use tools and programs and software and citation styles and punctuation and permissions and arguments but also chairs and tables and light and air? The only part that I wish I could also have seen was more of the area/s where Jessamyn did her writing (was there a desk, I wonder?)...
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