Last month, I asked a writer/performer friend of mine to come speak to a New York City writers salon of which I am a member. She asked what she should talk about, and we told her “talk about the writing life.”

The “writing life?” she asked, puzzled.

We said — you know, whatever you want to tell us about your writing experience.

Ever since that conversation, I’ve wondered about the “writing life” myself. What is _my_ writing life, for example? Is it this life that I’ve constructed by quitting my job and writing everyday (more or less) and ultimately putting more in my “Outtakes” folder than in my “Clean” folder? Those moments of my life when I was a harried Wall Street lawyer, who finally went to bed at 2 AM, only to find myself haunted by a sentence that I just HAD to get up and record? Now that much of my time is taken up with the job search, I have this new habit of “getting something down” (whehter propelled by hunger of discipline) — does that count?

No matter what your life happens to be, if you write, do you have a “writing life”?