i doubt it
I believe most of us, if not all, can tell stories and have a tale to tell. We may not think we do until the moment when only writing (using our body | forming with our hands) what is inside will satisfy the soul, the anger or fear, whichever sentiment has landed us in front of a piece of paper
or a computer screen + keyboard
For me, the connection is more intense, and the flow of words almost unstoppable when I write with an instrument on a surface — pen or pencil, crayon, finger … on paper, sand, skin, napkin, magazine. Whatever. Thoughts and processes often become clearer when I see them written down. Perhaps why calculus in high school and then statistics in college were so much easier than other maths.
This snippet I originally scribbled on a scrap paper in the semi-darkness before dawn, my favorite time of day, on a kitchen island while waiting for my chai to heat on the stove. I avoid the microwave as much as I can.
