My Friend Bruce

That's part of what I've been writing this morning.

I have finally started the biographical article about my friend Bruce Tsurutani, the article I have been "supposed" to write since I agreed to it last October. I've been dragging my feet, putting it off.

I am a writing teacher, you know, and I suppose I always understood when my students put off writing, didn't know how to start, etc., although inwardly I was likely impatient with them. I've been impatient with myself.

"Just start anywhere," I might tell them. That is a true and good strategy because merely putting pen to paper or fingers to keys brings ideas to the mind. "Just start anywhere." But did they believe it? A few did. But most of them would look at me like I was asking them to dress backwards and paint a face on the back of their heads.

Anyway, good for me, I have started, and I did just start anywhere, and what I wrote may or may not be in the article. But I got a couple of pages, a little under 1100 words. (I don't usually count words. It's just to let you know that when I say start I don't mean a few lines.) Two pages is a start.

An early draft. That's the time when I am not sure what has to go in and what doesn't. So, of course, there's a lot in there now because I have to put it in at first so I can see it.

Can't help these occasional writing lessons.