As solitary and siloed as the act of writing can be, it remains, nevertheless, a communal effort. if you don’t open yourself up to feedback, the odds of success can get pretty slim.
During the pandemic, Taylor Swift famously put out some of the best (in my opinion) work of her career. Locked away in one of several mansions, she created furiously, dreaming of meadows and love and fairy tales, and spun it all into sun-dappled, daydream-fueled albums. For her, solitude was an opportunity, and she embraced it the way I had always thought I would do. She flexed her creative muscles as I let mine atrophy.