"I feel like I should be less serious," she said.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"My writing's depressing," she explained. "I showed it to my husband, though, and he said maybe it's what I need to write. Maybe it really is what I need to write. Is that okay?"
She hung her head and waited for my reaction.
Responses swirled in my head, and I hope I took enough time reflecting and sorting through them before I spoke. I don't remember what I said in that moment, but I do know what I'm thinking now.
We slicers are writing what we need to write. And sometimes it's a function of what we're programming ourselves to notice over the month of March. Sometimes it's the inspiration we get from others. Sometimes it's the thoughts we need to sort through in order to make sense.
We write what we need to write.
Sometimes, some days, we write for our audience, for the emotion we can create for unseen readers--and sometimes, some days, our writing is all about what the writer needs. Just the writer.
And that's okay.