Talk uses up idea, although others have told me that they find it profitable to talk out their ideas and plans for a story because it clarifies their intentions. Not I. Once I have spoken them aloud, they are lost to me, dissipated into the noisy air like smoke. Only if I bury them, like bulbs, in the rich soil of silence do they grow. Sometimes I am lucky. In the internment process, they often multiply and become more complex.
Fifty Days of Solitude: A Memoir (1994)
Use the link below to read The View from 90, a 2011 essay about solitude and the aging process by DORIS GRUMBACH:
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