I'm generally not a fan of Writers Writing About Writing, but I am digging Anna Leventhal's piece about doing (undergoing? surviving?) a residency in Vermont
"In daily life you have lots of things to succeed or fail at, to feel okay or stoked or totally miserable about. In residence you have one thing, and that thing is probably the thing thatís the most important thing in the world to you. So a bad day at a writing residence is bad on a big, deep, horrifying existential level, the kind of state where you think, Okay, clearly even under these ideal circumstances I still suck at doing the one thing I care about and am supposed to be good at, so I guess I will just throw myself in this (very shallow) river right now."
You feel me? I thought so.