I had a Kafkaesque writing crisis recently. I was close to destroying 25 years of writing, because no one’s interested and what’s the point etc. I was so worn down that my writing just seemed like garbage. Maybe that’s why no one’s interested, I thought. As I tried to build the courage to destroy it all, I began to see it all in a sharper focus. It was good writing. So I’m satisfied with it on that level. I tend to write about life in the grey areas, where regular language doesn’t do it justice. I usually write every day, but I’m taking a break so as to break my ingrained writing habits, create new ones, keep things fresh. I would like for people to “find out about it”, but at this point, I’m also OK if no one does.