I don't claim to be good at it . I don't have any plans to publish anything. Basically, I write for me, and that for a lot of reasons, mostly because I find pleasure in spilling ink on a blank white page and watching to see what form it takes. Most of the time it is just one long rambling road that spills off of the page and makes little sense, except to myself, where everything makes some sort of sense in an odd way.
I'm not the kind of writer who goes out and researches some subject so that I can prove a point, or prove my opinion, or impress someone else. That has never been a form or writing that I enjoyed and I have probably not done that since I was in school when it was forced upon me. It's not my style and quite frankly, I find it, most of the time, rather boring. Not to mention that most research writing is just repeating someone else's words. All that is fine as long as the sources are cited, which many times people fail to do. But for those who like that kind of writing, carry on, to each his own.
Inside my head there resides a host of characters just waiting to come to life. Along with them are hundreds of different scenarios to place these characters in. I have two books inside my head , one has been there for years and I don't know if or when it will find it's way from my mind to my fingertips. Everyone in my head, and everything in my head was created from my imagination. Imaginary- existing only in the imagination, not real.
That's what I do when I write. I write about imaginary things, people, places, scenarios....
I have a friend here who loves to tell me things are all in my head, my imagination. He's right, nothing is real, even when I see it with my own eyes, it just can't be real. So when I write, it is not real. It is all imaginary, every single word I write is imaginary - not real, not true. I made it all up, everything. I am not who I claim to be and nothing I have told you is true. I am a writer, after all. I reserve the right to create fiction.
So dear readers, I leave you to decide if what I just wrote is the truth or not. 
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I think you mixed fact with fiction. Or was it fiction with fact? Either one, I love the way you write especially your beautiful poems...
ReplyDeleteThank you Greg. I think you probably got this one just fine :-)
DeleteI wish to read all them stories girl, without imagination we are nothing!
ReplyDeleteI want to share the stories, but for some reason they don't go from my head to my fingers. I wish I could go sit in a cabin in the woods for a month, all alone and just WRITE without distractions.
DeleteI read this post and was taken a shower, Then a thought about a couple of friends that read my blog and made comments and or asked questions. I reckon what this old fella is a hinting at. I could be just a chit-chatting and talkin' about this and that or anything, BUT when my words are in black and white form, they seem to take on another world of their own! I find that simply amazing!
ReplyDeleteAnother thing learned is what seem so "black and white" takes on a different meaning sometimes to the reader. I found myself trying too hard to explain my thoughts for them, it was boring!
Write as we hear it and let it take wings or plummet! Your computer pal, Glen!