Words are the writer’s mistress. He pursues her elusive beauty. He dances with her. His hands attempt to guide her mysterious steps into meaningful patterns. But she is a restless partner, elusive in mood and temperament and her pace often difficult to maintain. Her clever embrace a beautiful warmth that slips away into the cold darkness. Still he desires her, perhaps most when his passion is met with aloof regard. Her fleeting laughter haunts him. But She is an impish lover who taunts him. She reaches from the mist and takes his despondent hand. Her seductive voice whispers again, “come back to me.”
Yes—for a writer it is just like that. I remember the first word I learned to spell. The pride in describing a thing with those three letters: R-E-D. It became a quest. To learn more words and then to string them together. At the time the words seemed such a magical thing. Today they still do. The mysteries revealed through the combination of twenty-six letters, into hundreds of thousands of words to form a seemingly infinite number of sentences.
It doesn’t matter if you are the writer or the reader. If you are the speaker or the listener. The words have such great power. They give the thoughts sounds we can share. They can shine light on truth or draw the darkness of deception. They can be the difference between things that live and things that are evil. They can be things that inspire, or to desire or just that which transpires. Words are the In the beginning, the happily ever after, the how did it happen, and the what if.
For me, the writer, they are an amazing puzzle to solve. An intricate and intimate dance with my mistress. They are things selected and placed together. They gather in a group of seventy or eighty thousand and create places and people that once didn’t exist, but now have come to life on the page. Without them there would be no seductive voice to beckon my passion to write.
Categories: A to Z Blog Challenge