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Being a writer means i sit in a dark (and pretty dank) room off my garage for many hours a day, and in my wallowing moments i can feel as if i'm already on the outside of society, peering wistfully in.
-Lauren Groff
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Being A Writer Means I Sit In

Lauren Groff
Being a writer means i sit in a dark (and pretty dank) room off my garage for many hours a day, and in my wallowing moments i can feel as if i'm already on the outside of society, peering wistfully in.
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Mean Dark Rooms

More From Lauren Groff

My life is routine. i wake up early in the morning. i brush my teeth. i sit on the floor of the cell i do not go to breakfast. i stare at a gray cement wall. i keep my legs crossed my back straight my eyes forward. i take deep breaths in and out, in and out, and i try not to move. i sit for as long as i can i sit until everything hurts i sit until everything stops hurting i sit until i lose myself in the gray wall i sit until my mind becomes as blank as the gray wall. i sit and i stare and i breathe. i sit and i stare. i breathe.
Hurt Morning Wall
As every writer knows... there is something mysterious about the writer's ability, on any given day, to write. when the juices are flowing, or the writer is 'hot', an invisible wall seems to fall away, and the writer moves easily and surely from one kind of reality to another... every writer has experienced at least moments of this strange, magical state. reading student fiction one can spot at once where the power turns on and where it turns off, where the writer writes from 'inspiration' or deep, flowing vision, and where he had to struggle along on mere intellect.
Wall Struggle Moving
I think it's very pretty. can it be pretty if no one thinks it's pretty? i think it's pretty. if you're the only one? that's pretty pretty. and what about the boys? don't you want them to think you're pretty? i wouldn't want a boy to think i was pretty unless he was the kind of boy who thought i was pretty.
Boys Thinking Want
What i see is trying to make sure that everybody thinks you have more than what you actually have. what’s the point if you actually don’t have it? if you don’t have it, then you don’t have it. have what you have. enjoy that . . . the craft is everything. don’t be afraid of not being the wealthiest person in the room. be the smartest person in the room. be the slickest person in the room. be the most creative person in the room. be the most entertaining person in the room. just be in the room.
Thinking Creative Trying
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; it rains, and the wind is never weary; the vine still clings to the mouldering wall, but at every gust the dead leaves fall, and the day is dark and dreary. my life is cold, and dark, and dreary; it rains, and the wind is never weary; my thoughts still cling to the mouldering past, but the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, and the days are dark and dreary. be still, sad heart! and cease repining; behind the clouds is the sun still shining; thy fate is the common fate of all, into each life some rain must fall, some days must be dark and dreary.
Hope Wall Fall
In a world of fixed future, life is an infinite corridor of rooms, one room lit at each moment, the next room dark but prepared. we walk from room to room, look into the room that is lit, the present moment, then walk on. we do not know the rooms ahead, but we know we cannot change them. we are spectators of our lives.
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