I AM A WRITER
You told me to talk about days past and writing memories of old…Bitter rejections came to mind. Strange what a timeline of memoires can surface in people’s minds. Why is it that we always covet to remind ourselves of happiness and satisfaction? The harder we try the more we seem to drift to painful reminisces of past failures and mistakes in all matters of the heart and mind.
I looked upon my timeline and amongst scarce information I could only detect one or two blissful writing moments. Well, maybe three. Is it writing itself the villain? Am I to blame pen and pencil or that crude electronic device? Or perhaps is it the readers of my writings who pointed fingers arrogantly, my dismissive first grade teacher, my ever unsatisfied mother, my harsh supervising professor, all those criticizing faces…I should stop my “enemies” runt right there. Writing, ladies and gentlemen, is innocent! It’s the reading, the real culprit.
If one reads, one writes. If one knows how to read, one knows how to write. If one appreciates himself as a reader, then he will – I assure you – appreciate another as a writer. Beware of what you write and most of all beware of what you read.