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The challenge of acting is to find the humanity in every character, no matter how different they may seem from you.
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, and thou no breath at all?
A writer's life is a highly vulnerable, almost naked activity. We don't have to weep about that. The writer makes his choice and is stuck with it. But it is true to say that you are open to all the winds, some of them icy indeed. You are out on your own, out on a limb. You find no shelter, no protection — unless you lie — in which case of course you have constructed your own protection and, it could be argued, become a politician.