Posts Tagged ‘writing about writing’

when i was 16 or so, an adult leader in boy scouts handed me two books to read
one was ‘a separate peace’ by john knowles
the other
‘to kill a mockingbird’ by harper lee
in one transaction, i was gifted with two of the best books i have ever had the pleasure of reading
i have those copies still today
the pages are loose, and i keep a rubber band around the paper back so i don’t lose any of them

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just finished reading
the kite runner

it struck me

i used to read
and i would cry at the emotional parts

now

i still do that

but i also cry at the art of the writing

when a metaphor is just perfect
when a phrase takes my breath away
when i find myself in the writer’s heart
and not just their head

don’t tear rape me with incidental sadness

but tear seduce me with poignancy and introspection and confession

give me those few moments where i am no longer in the writer’s story, but have accidentally found myself inside his deepest regrets and fears and shame and vulnerabilities

give me that
and i will weep with you while we loathe our frail weaknesses together

unconnected

Posted: December 12, 2014 in writing about writing
Tags:

some days, sadly, my fingers and my heart can not connect to write beauty

but even then, there’s still this

my eyes and my heart can connect to read it

and while that’s not the same thing

at those points

it’s good enough

posted this as a response to a link from a friend

but i think it can stand on its own as a sort of mini-manifesto

– – –

it’s all about meter
rhythm
clarity

if we understood that all writing
all creative writing
is poetry
is music

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i walked upon the fallen leaves

i left no footprints there

i made no record in their piles

my passing not worthwhile

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just testing some jpeg stuff here

 

to write

you know- it’s odd

to write- i need the opening line or two

and they come to me most often in the middle of the night when i awake

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