Words: 1,232

Music: Raising Sand 

Last week’s discussion in the comments regarding writers groups reminded me of how, when you go out to play pool with your boyfriend, and it’s your turn and you’re setting up your shot, but your boyfriend is all, “okay, all you gotta do is hit the two into the seven and bank it off the side and it will drop in” but you see like this line that tells you exactly how to hit the ball and while he’s still talking and maybe diagramming you go ahead and shoot and sink it? And it goes in with that satisfying smack instead of dribbling along and scratching like you usually do? And he’s all like, “whoah,” and you can’t explain how you did it either, because God knows it doesn’t happen often?

The writers group is your boyfriend. And sometimes you have to ignore him. Because the only person who can sink the shot is you.


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