I have officially been a member of five different writing groups; I’ve perused a hundred more, and I have only one declaration: I don’t get it!
Only two times before in my life have I been so utterly beaten and confused. The first time, I took a college course in shorthand. The second time, I bought one of those closet organizer thingys.
So now, I have to admit: squiggly lines mean nothing to me; I’d rather work with wood and, try as hard as I might to fake it, even my internet personality is a bohemian. Now that I think about it in those terms, I’m not surprised. Whahah!