Stephen King. Bag of bones (№ 459141)

On the way from the meadow to the house, I tried not to think about anything. My first editor liked to say that eighty percent of what goes through a novelist's head has nothing to do with his work, but I never believed that this applied only to writers. And the so-called sublime thoughts, to put it mildly, are greatly overrated. When faced with a problem and something needs to be done, I firmly believe that the best solution is to step aside and let the boys in the basement do their work. This is hard physical work, the lot of blue collar, non-unionized guys with huge biceps and a scattering of tattoos all over their bodies. They act guided by instinct, and turn to those above them for advice only as a last resort.