Love and Writing

Some “artists” love to wrap themselves in this mantle of isolation and tell you they “live for their art,” which means you can’t depend on them to commit to love or any kind of emotional ties with a significant other. As you can imagine, that’s not me.

I could not have written my first two novels without the love and comfort provided by my wife, Carol. We made a home together which formed a base for not only my work but my life. If I had tried to remain the noble and solitary artist, or worse, if I had spent years running around chasing one woman after another, what kind of writing would I have done, if I had managed to do any writing at all beyond what I needed to write to make a living?

I admire people who can write brilliantly, but most of them, and myself as well, can’t do it alone. Look at the back of any novel and see how many people most authors thank. Love informs everything we do and certainly everything we write.

Already I can say that if anyone asked me, “What is the most important accomplishment of your life, the act that you think defines you more than any other?,” I would not mention any writing. I would say, “I was Carol’s husband.”