Pages of books not written; I’m smitten with writing and making connections. Between the exertions of the mind and the final piece laid out before me; a master piece a sculptural word image.
Many pages have been torn out so worn with notes and ink they had to be reborn upon the laptop screen, reformed and moved around until an agitation would cease to exist inside the writer’s mind.
Placing words are like placing memories. A smell of leather and glue can you bring you back to those first books, the classics, made in ancient form; but now the books aren’t even paperback or on thick paper; now the books are read from phones and tablets. It’s a new form of perception for words.
Words have no meaning until you make them a sentence, until you move them around with more of their kind and place them between periods, commas, semi-colons, question marks, and other punctuation. But in saying that, arrange them properly or abandon all hope.
Words don’t have meaning until you say what you mean using examples and making the sound of the words pleasing; perhaps, you’ll alliterate or personify. Or maybe you’ll say exactly what you meant sparsely and short.
These words are all tools to build the illustrious novel, the poetry book, the poster, the newsletter, or the magazine. You can use them with images snapped by a camera, but you can make them an image. Smash together words like ants coming from a hole in the wall.
You can poison with words the way you kill ants – Borax and Icing sugar – a deadly sweet treat like words that linger for their artifice. Words that are artificial, extending their life just to be, we don’t need them here.
We could spend hours debating word usage, sentences, and clauses. But who cares really? I just wanted you to comprehend the connection of words to final draft, to your fait accompli. I wanted you to dream while you type away that words can actually mean a great deal when they are used properly.
They can snake into your mind, a superhuman surprise and in a rush you’ll hurry to write down your word picture. You’ll create another part, a piece of the pie, and for moments you’ll dream sipping on endings. And eventually it will fit, click and create the last words ever written on the subject by your author, unknown. But you can call her Jane Doe.
©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.