I erased it all and started over.
I suddenly realized I can't describe it. Words are my power and they have failed.
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I still can't quite put it there, but I've decided that my job as a writer is to put things into words-- to say the things that no one else has ever been able to express in words, so that when people read it, they can say, "You see? THAT'S what I meant." We say it because they can't.
ReplyDeleteYet... even then, there are some things for which we don't have good enough words yet.
So. The point? Don't give up. Seventeen failures is not enough.
Well, I don't want to, because it's actually embarrassing. Sometimes, I don't want to continue because I fail 17 times. Sometimes, I don't want to continue because I'm afraid of embarrassing other people/myself with what I write.
ReplyDeleteYou ever read David Sedaris?
ReplyDelete