A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word to paper.
Life is always rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch.
Delay is natural to a writer. He is like a surfer-he bides his time, waits for the perfect wave on which to ride in. Delay is instinctive with him. He waits for the surge (of emotion? of strength? of courage?) that will carry him along.