A writer's life is always so complex, and yet a writer's work in borne from simplicity. While the writer may himself be dealing with a depth of emotion beyond that of the average Joe, the very nature of his duty as a writer is to translate this convoluted esoteric dissonance into simple words that we can all get in touch with. To take that which is unknown to us, either by our ignorance or by our fear, and serve it to us in a way we either could not or dare not refuse.
The true writer, furthermore, does not simply write with this process, he lives it. He lives through his tropical depression and delivers to us summer rain. He suffers through the flurry of words sketched in the sky and sets the most important ones down against the ground as we know it He carries through bliss and anguish, relationships and solitude, frustration and clarity, dotting each 'i' and crossing each 't', with only one pen, his soul. The true writer has no identity separate from his pen, lives in no world separate from his parchment; he and they are one. And when his soul is revealed through these words shared, received and sent, who amongst you readers could deny such humble beauty, such defiant devotion? Who amongst you would prefer to live as beasts do, without words, without the writer's soul in your life?
The true writer, furthermore, does not simply write with this process, he lives it. He lives through his tropical depression and delivers to us summer rain. He suffers through the flurry of words sketched in the sky and sets the most important ones down against the ground as we know it He carries through bliss and anguish, relationships and solitude, frustration and clarity, dotting each 'i' and crossing each 't', with only one pen, his soul. The true writer has no identity separate from his pen, lives in no world separate from his parchment; he and they are one. And when his soul is revealed through these words shared, received and sent, who amongst you readers could deny such humble beauty, such defiant devotion? Who amongst you would prefer to live as beasts do, without words, without the writer's soul in your life?
1 comment:
This is true... a little soul resides between the hardcovers of each book..
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