No writing is wasted. Did you know that sourdough from San Francisco is leavened partly by a bacteria called lactobacillus sanfrancisensis? It is native to the soil there, and does not do well elsewhere. But any kitchen can become an ecosystem. If you bake a lot, your kitchen will become a happy home to wild yeasts, and all your bread will taste better. Even a failed loaf is not wasted. Likewise, cheese makers wash the dairy floor with whey. Tomato gardeners compost with rotten tomatoes. No writing is wasted: the words you can’t put in your book can wash the floor, live in the soil, lurk around in the air. They will make the next words better.
Erin Bow (via writersrelief)
I like this.
Oh, I have written well over a million bad words: two, three, four million easy, that lived under my bed or that I put on the internet or that I sent out to crushing silence/rejection: I laid my head on desks/pillows/floors (bad idea floors, very drafty) and hated those words and that waste, and sometimes I still do, and this idea is very comforting!