I never get headaches from writing about personal stuff. I never get a stomach ache or any other ailment.
It’s pretty much effortless for me to write about my life.
What I find tough is reading such work to real human beings. That exhausts me. Try as I might, I can’t help fearing that I am offending them.
After reading aloud on Sundays, I walk to my car and climb inside and catch my breath.
It usually takes a few minutes for my pulse rate to return to normal and I finally feel strong enough – after a couple of scoops of peanut butter — to rejoin human society.
