Lee Davy continues his confessions series with a piece on the importance of getting interested.

I’m in Brussels, in the smallest toilet in the world, reading the last page of The Elements of Style by Strunk & White. There was a time when I would have gladly torn away the sheets and used them to wipe my ass. Times have changed. It’s taken me a year to finish. I’ve blisters on the tips of my fingers, my mandible aches and I have molted an entirely new self.

Strunk & White: it sounds very Bob Cratchett. I read somewhere that it’s the writer’s bible. That’s why I couldn’t finish it. It was too smart for me. I’m your burp the alphabet type of writer. This little black book was antithetical to me. Fear welled up inside each time I picked it up.

When it comes to being the best, there is an avariciousness about me. It’s a way of being that hits me in wavelets of emotion. It shakes me. I don’t like it. But it’s strong, sturdy and stupid. It’s not like a daisy chain necklace. It’s all rock and hammers. I can’t be the best if I have to be all Strunk & White.