The subject of the last Hackie column, "If It's Not Fun", presented a daunting challenge.
The man I was profiling was larger than life, multi-faceted and teeming with contradictory impulses. Within my 1000-word limit, how could I do justice? I had experienced a grand and sexy beast, and, in my account, I feared missing an essential component, like the billowy ears, the curling trunk, the lily-pad feet.
My solution was as it always is: I trusted my intuition. Writing, for me, is an intuitive creative process. I open myself up and I trust, baby, trust. What "comes through" is what's needed to make the story come alive, and, when I'm lucky, the process works. It's why I love writing almost as much as cab driving.
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