Heart of a Writer
These memories so quickly captured are then just as quickly tossed aside to lie scattered about and patiently waiting to be picked up and reevaluated at a more convenient time. In these tiny little thoughts and memories lies the basis of blogs, short stories, books, advice columns, newspaper editorials and a look inside the heart of a writer.
The heart of a writer exists within their work. Each line that is written is filled with the thoughts, emotions, and ideals of that writer. Memories of past events and hopes for future ones all lie buried within the words that are quietly typed onto the keyboard.
From a paper napkin tucked into a jacket pocket at a local restaurant come the words, "He examines her like a scientist would examine a bug under a microscope". The writer remembers the young couple at the restaurant that night and the look in their eyes as they gazed at one another. Their emotions become his and the writer's imagination stirs. His memory records the couple, the room, and the emotion to combine with these his imagination into play.
There is a need to capture the image, the emotion, the probability of what is to occur and to make this visible to those who will in the future read this work.
In a moment of magic the memory transcends to becomes a section of time that someone else will one day feel and enjoy. The vision is there for any who will one day read his literary work and it is this that a writer passes on within their work. Emotion, imagination, personal insight, and an intuitive perception of what is and what could be emerge within the writing.
Buried deep in his words the writer's soul is exposed. By his bed lies a notepad and pen. It waits for any thoughts that might come as he lays in bed waiting for sleep or if he should wake in the middle of the night from a dream that needs to be remembered lest it slip away.
On the pad are the scribbled words, "She is warm as the sun, her skin is as soft as a newborn kitten, and thankfully she is mine" and he smiles as he remembers the night that he wrote those words. Then he leans over and softly kisses his sleeping wife. This is a writers life.
A light touch
Sweet words of darkness and of mornings first light
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