I've been writing for 35 years, unsuccessfully. I don't seem to have minded, an example perhaps of ambition flawed beyond repair, an excessive enjoyment of process. I live with a wife, a mother, two children and two cats. Spiders look cruel to me, in an inhuman way, and that is why I see them as masculine. It's been my experience to never have seen women doing the killing or the rest of it.
Women have their own failings.
I began to write because I wanted to be conscious of what I was feeling. I still do. I agree that we choose our work out of our weaknesses, an inherent drive toward balance. Self-regarding from beginning to end, I have always wanted to hand myself over, the mind, the heart, the fly open to the breeze and the light. Not a program for others, but my own desire.