Sunday Scribblings: Smorgasbord
Thanks to Laini and Megg for digging into the archives for their fabulous Sunday Scribblings list. I may end up writing on a few topics. But the one I chose tonight is …
The Books I Would Write
Most people think anyone can write a book, but we all know it’s not that simple. Writers spend endless days and many nights fretting over the right line or line break, forcing the words onto paper. We walk around pleasantly tortured by the great stories in our heads, the ones that take us away from our kids and our lovers, our friends and coworkers. I think the whole process makes writers some of the luckiest and unluckiest people around.
So the best way to describe the book I would write is by describing the reader.
I write for the woman (or man) who comes into the neighborhood bookstore on a rainy afternoon. Maybe she’s had a bad day at work or an argument with a friend—the reason doesn’t matter. She’s rain-soaked and needs something new. So she meanders to the poetry section and finds the spine of my book standing out from all the others. She notices the title and is intrigued. That’s when the fun begins.
She slides the book out from the others with her damp fingers, taking a long look at the title—like nothing she’s ever heard of before. Then she considers the cover, thinks of its creation and how it might play into the book’s theme. At that point, she can’t help but thumb through its pages, and happens to select the poem that makes her feel as if someone understands. The poem has captured her emotion. And in this moment, I understand how she feels. All she wants to do is slip away between the folds of my pages and get lost.
That’s the type of book I would write.
The Books I Would Write
Most people think anyone can write a book, but we all know it’s not that simple. Writers spend endless days and many nights fretting over the right line or line break, forcing the words onto paper. We walk around pleasantly tortured by the great stories in our heads, the ones that take us away from our kids and our lovers, our friends and coworkers. I think the whole process makes writers some of the luckiest and unluckiest people around.
So the best way to describe the book I would write is by describing the reader.
I write for the woman (or man) who comes into the neighborhood bookstore on a rainy afternoon. Maybe she’s had a bad day at work or an argument with a friend—the reason doesn’t matter. She’s rain-soaked and needs something new. So she meanders to the poetry section and finds the spine of my book standing out from all the others. She notices the title and is intrigued. That’s when the fun begins.
She slides the book out from the others with her damp fingers, taking a long look at the title—like nothing she’s ever heard of before. Then she considers the cover, thinks of its creation and how it might play into the book’s theme. At that point, she can’t help but thumb through its pages, and happens to select the poem that makes her feel as if someone understands. The poem has captured her emotion. And in this moment, I understand how she feels. All she wants to do is slip away between the folds of my pages and get lost.
That’s the type of book I would write.
Comments
I know I have not been visiting but I saw your post at rethabile's and loved it.
BTW, I too wrote about The books I would write!
Just from reading this, I'm sure I would enjoy the book!
i can't wait to read your book! :)
=]
I write for the woman (or man) who comes into the neighborhood bookstore on a rainy afternoon. Maybe she’s had a bad day at work or an argument with a friend—the reason doesn’t matter. She’s rain-soaked and needs something new. So she meanders to the poetry section and finds the spine of my book standing out from all the others. She notices the title and is intrigued. That’s when the fun begins.
She slides the book out from the others with her damp fingers, taking a long look at the title—like nothing she’s ever heard of before. Then she considers the cover, thinks of its creation and how it might play into the book’s theme. At that point, she can’t help but thumb through its pages, and happens to select the poem that makes her feel as if someone understands.