Writing (n.) is a hostile act in that you're trying to make somebody see something the way you see it, trying to impose your idea, your picture. It's hostile to try to wrench around someone else's mind that way.
Writing (n.) is an activity done entirely to find out what you are thinking. If you already know what you think, then there is no reason to write.
Writing (n.) always involves selling somebody out and always runs counter to the interests of those whom we write about.
Writing's (n.) impulse is often homesickness. One invokes the home as an effort to try to get back there and assuage the feeling.
Writing (n.) is the act of saying 'I'.
Writing (n.) is, when writing a novel, like watercolor painting. Every stroke you put down you have to go with. Even if you rewrite, the original strokes are still there in the texture of the thing.