POETRY
I experiment with sweet rhythms,
Not just the rhyming of words.
NOVELS
Some stories, from the beginning, are determined to get well out of hand.
SHORT STORIES
What if a particular day in the life is more interesting than the life as a whole?
ESSAYS
Some things can't be reduced to a few sound-bites and a handful of talking points.
RANTS & RUMINATIONS
If you write something in the heat of the moment, is it a rant or a rumination?
SNIPPETS
Sometimes it's just a moment. A glance. A touch. The sudden electric tension of a breast brushed against you in a crowd.
|
 |
“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”
- E.L. Doctorow
I love words. I always have. Language. It amazes me how we can communicate so much with just a few words, and can
dramatically change the meaning of what we say by re-arranging those very same words.
I think I always wanted to be a writer. Among other things, of course. I still have blank forms that I made my friends
fill our in the 8th grade, so that I could use their names in a book I was writing.
That book was never finished. Somewhere near 2/3 of the way through, I realized it was horrible. So I started another.
It was horrible, too.
But I always enjoyed writing. I still do. Now, though, I'm keenly aware that I'm ill-suited to writing for a profit. I'm
more poet than writer. I don't fit into the publishing industry's nearly defined categories.
I think it all comes back to loving words. Playing with words. Rhyme. Texture. We have all suffered at the hands of the
mass-market paperback. Something of the beauty of the written language is lost in the pursuit of profitability.
Still, you can grow old and fat and still make a living as a writer. So as I age, I realize that it's possibly the
only refuge left to me. Writing is the refuge of old men. And I grow older every day.
|
