You can feel something going appallingly wrong, and the writers mapping it all out.
Letters are like wild canyons and chaotic seas that the writer maps into words and then into sentences and then into scenes.
With mournful elegance David Grubin, the director, producer and co-writer, maps Abraham Lincoln's spiritual and political evolution through the psychodynamics of his personal tragedies, which included a wife who was swamped by despair.
"The author proves himself an able cartographer as well as a nimble writer, mapping with affectionate but unflinching accuracy both the back roads of Louisiana... and the distance between parents and children," Liam Callanan said here last year.
Writers love maps: collecting them, creating them, and describing them.
Like all truly first-rate writers, he mapped out his own country with its own distinctive topography.
One optimistic Houston Press writer even mapped out a scenario that ended with them playing the AFC Championship game at home.
He gives the writer a topographical map marked with an X, and the writer goes off, with only his compass and the map as guides, on a long, fruitless search.
How could I, and other writers, benefit from mapping our brains, from understanding the nature of our minds?
