The Unpublished Chapters

It feels good to be lost in the right direction.


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Why I Write..

 


 Why I write: because creating something that didn’t exist before, is as close to magic as I’ll ever get. 

I just want to make beautiful things, even if nobody cares. I recently had a rare, awkward encounter, which involved many people hearing something I’d wrote. It was followed for days with comments I’m use to, (not to sound arrogant, which I am, *insincere giggles*) “You’re such a great writer! You should put that talent to use.” “Why isn’t your major in writing?” “Have you thought about making a career out of that?”  I just smiled politely, nodded, and blushed past some ‘thank yous.’ 

However, what I wanted to say was, “No, I am not such a great writer! Have you ever picked up classic literature?” But that would be snobbish and rude so I bit my tongue. “I do put my talent to use, whenever I have something worth saying, believe me, I don’t ‘bite my pen’.” And “I don’t want to study the English language, I want to experience it.”

Even more importantly though, in defense or rather clarification to artists everywhere, I don’t write because I have something important to say. I write, because without it, I wouldn’t even know what I thought, or even how I felt. The pen to the paper, the fingertips to the keyboard, I imagine it’s how a musician feels when they play a chord, or how a painter feels with each stroke. Like I said, it’s the closest thing to magic I’ve ever known. 

This particular situation gave me the magic to not only put to words what I was feeling, but possibly what everyone in the room was feeling. I love a painting, or a beautiful melody, something so emotional and raw, it takes your breath away, but the literal and poetic sword of the written word is my art. It’s not my next career move, or college class, it’s how I tell the world who I am

To be honest I’m just not ready for the whole world to care. When people ask to read my work, I shove the notebook, or laptop so far from reach you’d think I was working on the 4th installation of Fifty Shades, I’m not by the way. When I blog, I already know what people will think. The Internet tells me who reads my work. Thanks Internet. 

I guess my rambling point is writing is the best way to talk without being interrupted. If someone starts to pay me for writing, I would have to be open to interruption, and I’m not.

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