For writing is discovery. The language that never leaves our head is like colorful yarn, which endlessly spins out multicolored threads dropping into emptiness, momentarily compacted, entangled, fascinating, and elusive. We have glimpses that seem brilliant but quickly fade; we catch sight of images that tease us with connections and patterns that too-soon flow on; we hold in momentary view a comprehensive arrangement (insight) that dissolves rapidly and disappears. Writing that is discovery forces the capturing, the retrieving, and the bringing into focus these stray and random thoughts. Examining them we form ideas that are as much about the self as about language. Indeed, writing is largely a process of choosing among alternatives from the images and thoughts of the endless flow, and this choosing is the matter of making up one’s mind, and this making up one’s mindbe comes in effectthe making up of one’s self. In this way writing that is honest and genuine and serious constitutes the discoveryof the self.