Just rereading Stephen King’s book On Writing and loving his anything-but-glamorous trip to success.
I like people who have suffered, who have struggled, who have lived without prospects and still found a way.
It is not that I want anyone to suffer, it’s just that most of us are better after the stuffing has been knocked out of us and we are left with just us. No illusions. No pretention. No show.
Also, real stories of survival help me answer the question, “Why does life have to be so hard?”
(Maybe ’cause I can’t be as useful without the experience, and just maybe, there is more at stake than my own easy ride.)