Thursday, March 18, 2010

Writing

Writing
Is an art form
First an expression of what is inside
Therapy
A place to put away roiling thoughts
Memories that please
Or disturb
Saved in journals.

But if the idea itches
And the writer scratches
Tickled to find the exact perfect word
Not repeating too often
Perhaps alliterating
Or imitating sounds
Creating the image in the mind of some reader
So that perfection is approached
But never reached
Then the child is born.

Proud of the one birthed
The writer brings it into public view
Faces critics, agents and publishers
With thick skin
Withdraws slim rejection envelopes from the mail slot
With a rueful smile, and then
Generates yet another child.

Sometimes
Others love the child too
Or see a profit in its life,
Fanning the flames of interest
So the author gives life support
To the clones
Come what may.

Fame or ignominy may follow,
At the whims of fickleness,
But the writer
Keeps writing,
Her own best audience.


March 17, 2010.







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