I went to a seminar with Julia Cameron tonight. She wrote "The Artist's Way" and "Vein of Gold." The woman sounded exactly like Joan Cuzak. She even had the same mannerisms. Cameron said she lives in Manhattan, a block away from Central Park, but her voice is soooo Chicago.

It was fun that she named dropped. She was engaged to Martino Scorcese and worked at The Washington Post during the Watergate era and knew Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein.

Cameron talked about morning pages, and I decided I needed to start doing them again. It's been years since I've done them, and I know I so rebelled against doing them. But it got the feeling that it was time to do to them again.

I went to Walgreen's after the class and picked up these really cool notebooks and new pens. I love buying new equipment when I'm about to start a project.

I was talking to a woman about one of my novels, and she told it was selfish to not want to write if I had the gift of writing. She told me she couldn't even imagine writing a fictional novel. I don't know. Maybe I am being selfish for not writing especially when I seem to easily make up stories. It's an issue that I am seriously pondering tonight.

Am I being selfish when I don't write because I was given the gift of writing?