Writing is tough work. If I may be so bold as to attempt a simile, I’d say that it’s like walking through a dark forest, but with your legs tied together. So in actuality you’re not really walking at all. But sort of hopping. Oh yes, and there’s a little devil perched upon your shoulder whispering sweet doubts in your ear. And the worst thing of all is that he’s composing his insults more poetically than you ever could.