Please send me your advice, especially on the title. |
My pencil. It hovers over my paper and seems to say, Create a new world of dreams and sorrows. You alone can share what's inside and guide me into fashioning words that caress the reader. My hand flickers in hesitation for a single moment, then begins the long process of emptying my mind. Words blossom from my hand, each mine to love and nurture. My characters take on a life of their own as I move my pencil across the page. They are my friends, my enemies, and my loved ones so dear. They are a part of me, there to bring comfort and solace. Ignoring the ache in my fingers, I write on. Because to let the story unfold is like painting a masterpiece of gold and silver, laughter and tears. Such art can only be seen by those who truly believe in the magic of writing. I stop to look at the page to realize it isn't the first, or the second, or even the third. It's gone beyond that, so quickly I didn't even notice. Once again, I've written down a part of the ever-changing me. The room is dark as I adjust my flashlight, change my sitting position, and let my hand once more hesitate before continuing my painting of words. |