More thoughts on writing
Through the years I learn that it is not up to the writer to be interesting, but merely to be truthful. For writers are nothing more than conveyors of truth when they can latch on to it, even if it meant doing it in various disguises of lies or wildly disconnected images.
In that regard, whether or not the writing is good is not to be determined by the writer, who in any case is only a messenger waiting or coaxing on the edge of the tangibles. A master of his craft he might be, his craft serves solely as a facilitator of truth echoed from the beyond, therefore the only way he can progress in his trade is in improving the accuracy at which he relay what he received. That's all any artist can do; learn the basic rules of the means - in this case, language - and learn to pay intense attention.
Then again there is this relatively new school of thought that propounds the idea of making art for art's sake; such as a door is no longer a door but a cat. In all that a writer does, his primary task is to be truthful, and then to make sense. I believe these two are one, or came from one single source. To be truthful is to be boldly honest. By making sense I mean keeping the truth in check, for we can be overly bold unto self-indulgent and forget to be truly honest.
The truth conveyed could make sense without anybody yet recognizing it, but it must make sense. The internal coherence has to be there and conform to the shared principles of reason or the whole message breaks down. To make a door a cat might sound avant-garde but is in fact dangerous. Art could be an overlooked message projected into space that never falls onto a right-distanced wall, but it isn't nothing. Art for its own sake isn't a form of art. Art for art's sake, like any meaning turned on its head, is nothing. And it is always dangerous to make something out of nothing - a task even God does not attempt.