The secret to writing is the willingness to take the risk that next year at this same time on this same day, same job, same family, same challenges to navigate, year in, year out, hopeful, yet that ship with you or without you sails at noon no matter what. No matter your powers of observation. There is scant evidence to imply anyone alive can do this. It’s just not true. There isn’t a soul anywhere on the planet who can do this – this sameness as a ritual – and that is what a writer does. He has his way. He packs his stuff. And he never looks back.