Writing.
It’s such a personal thing.
And yet, in a strange way, it is always public.
You write to be read, even if the reader is only one person: you.
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There you are, your notebook open, fingers poised.
There you are, ready to harness what is going on inside to a comprehensible whole.
And so it begins: ‘visions and revisions’ galore.
Wordsmith.
Then come the drafts.
1st, 2nd, 3rd.
20th, 50th.
487th.
Hours of frustration and sudden tearful heartache.
Cautious celebration and moments of complete elation.
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Rewording, rephrasing and reshaping sentences, paragraphs, chapters to something that comes closer to what you had in mind. A welding and soldering of ideas until the words and their meaning finally fuse to one, and you finally have what you had in mind:
a story, a poem
a personal piece of creative writing
a unique fiction
a moment of you, living, perceiving
being human.
Reading.
There are so many ways.
Every reader has their own story,
their own lens through which they see what is on the page.
It’s what makes reading so thrilling.
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A good read is a case of the genuinely unexpected.
And the need to know what happened next.
So, always remember the reader.
Remember that need to know what happened next.
Both/And.
Writing is an art and a craft.
It demands passion and diligence,
courage and vision.
And it can be a helluva lot of fun :).
vr