Something must be ascertained. It is not what you think it is. There are books just full of these things. It is really found somewhere. I’m not all too sure, though, that it makes too much sense. I don’t know. I just know it’s somewhere. You get going over this hump where just about all you really want to do is write. And you begin to write and, to your chagrin, it’s not working well, and who knew, and now you really just don’t know. But there is something which must be ascertained, and it is not what you think it is.