Last June, I finally got up the nerve to show my wife the novel I’d been working on for almost four years. I didn’t want to—not yet—but after several deadline extensions, I had two months to deliver a ...

Ever since I was a graduate student, I have tried to recapture the clarity of purpose I had while working on my dissertation. I got up every morning, made myself a cup of coffee, and sat down at my ...

Last week, after sending my manuscript to a friend, I told her that I am running out of big problems to fix, apart from every single sentence. I am at that stage—I call it “writing a book”—when I ...