I like writers. I can talk to writers.
At the kaffeklatsche, Haikujaguar told about being a bit surprised by someone who'd started telling her all his secrets. "But why me?" she'd asked. "Because you're a writer!" he'd replied. I hope she'll forgive me if that's a mixed up version of her actual story, but I think I see what he might have meant.
By nature and nurture, I find it difficult to get close to people. I always feel tongue-tied or blathering, lumpish or too pushy, overaccommodating or tense and snappish, and so I always try to limit people's exposure and not overstay any welcome. But I find I talk more easily with writers than most others, and I think some of it is this odd feeling that no matter what I say or do, it might not be a total waste for them. It might be material? And so I can relax more. And so I can see where that could extend to sharing secrets... "there's this odd-shaped pebble that's been digging into my heel, and, say, you do mosaics, don't you?"
I wonder how many writers find themselves being buried in pebbles?