When I was younger and someone asked what the best thing was about being a writer, I had a ready, two-part answer. The first - that I could go to work in my pajamas - was a bit facetious, and the second - that I got to live other lives through my characters-was sincere, but also borrowed (or stolen) from Anne Tyler.
Looking back, I realize that the truly best thing about being a young (well, middle-aged) writer was the lovely, easy flow-the gush, often-of language, the way words and phrases seemed to find me, sometimes at odd times and places. If I was in bed when inspiration struck, and had a pen or pencil nearby, I would scribble on the margin of a newspaper or in my date book. Crossing the street, I'd write on the palm of my hand. But if I was in the shower or somewhere else without a writing implement, I could depend on memory most of the time. Whole paragraphs, pages, even chapters!-were safely retained in my head until I was able to write them down. I once heard John Irving refer to this phenomenon as "the enema syndrome."
