And on the millionth day, God said, Thou shalt not write

“It was a dark, stormy night”, wrote Snoopy. I might as well begin with that. There is no way to know how to begin a book. You may have an idea, or no idea, or just want to try your hand at this writing thing everyone keeps talking about, but there’s really no way of knowing how to begin. I can imagine myself going on famously, but the crucial thing is, what about? I have lived a moderately eventful life in a moderately uneventful way, and what is there to write about in that? I may have opinions on everything under the sun, but did I ever pack my bags and shoot off to play a part in the Gulf War? No! Most emphatically not! I am a product of my education and upbringing, and would not consider any options that are not financially viable. So how does such a person with limited experience start to write a book that enthralls millions as they nod their heads in smiling, excited euphoria of shared understanding? Well, even if it fails to do that, at least a book that its writer is able to read with interest and without cringing! How do people do it? My mind is too literal to allow me to read into the daily occurrences of my existence a mystical aura or larger-than-life significance, and to be able to convert it into poetic, elegant prose. And yet I can connect word to word as well as the next guy. Is it really a divine power?