My website administrator has given me an assignment. I am to write an article and explain why it is that I write. That sounded so simple until I sat staring at this blank expanse of white.
Do you want the dramatic version, or the logical one that almost makes sense; well at least if you know me? Oh heck, I’m just going to start writing and see what comes out.
Let me tell you what I believe about words to begin with, and because I believe some of my most profound statements come out in rhyme that’s how you are going to get them.
What is this place? Why it is SO unique!!
Look, I have eyes, and a face, are those FEET?
There’s a blob on my face. I shall call it a nose.
And those wiggly things on my feet, shall be toes.
There on the keyboard, those must be hands,
connected to the rest, by long bendable bands.
At the end of my hands, are those fingers or toes?
I guess it’s my choice, cause who really knows.
Words were created so people could share,
all the things that they lived with, with others who cared.
If I called that flower, and you called it star,
our conversations wouldn’t go very far.
But until someone said so, who really knew,
if I wore on my foot, an umbrella or shoe?
I hope you get the drift of that poem. I was in a silly mood when I wrote it, and yet it says exactly what I meant it to…that words are the basis of communication, and the commonality of our language allows us to share ideas and learn from one another. And what I do with my writing is take those words and weave them into a poem or a story to communicate to you, or to anyone else interested in reading what passed through my mind.
I write because sometimes I need to release ideas that have formed. Seeing the clarity or confusion of my thoughts on paper helps me to sort them out and figure out exactly how I feel about things. I express my deepest feelings in my poems, and if any of them make you cry you should know that my face was probably wet as well. My dearest friends tell me to write when they know I am in a mood about something, because they know that writing heals me. I can’t tell you why it works that way though I know it does; maybe it’s just a release.
That was the dramatic version. The logical one is that I am better at expressing myself in writing. Not so very long ago I went back to college to attain some academic credentials and also to take any and all classes that would help me become a better writer. To obtain a degree I had to take a speech class. You’d think I would be pretty good with words. I have had poetry readings and I’ve been talking my head off at my kids for 33 years, but put in front of an audience (no matter how small) and all those words I so carefully composed go straight out of my head to God knows where. Nope, I’m not a public speaker. I did discover while taking that class that there are parts of our brains that govern our abilities to use words. In my particular case the area for the spoken word is underdeveloped.
But that’s okay. You put me in front of a keyboard and my fingers take wing, only having trouble keeping up with my brain as I compose.
There’s one other reason I write. As I have gotten just a bit older I’ve realized that it’s all too easy to sit back and keep quiet about something I don’t like as opposed to speaking my mind and kicking up a fuss. But if I don’t speak my mind how is anyone going to know that I don’t like something? And maybe, just maybe, someone else out there agrees with me and is just sitting back and keeping quiet too. Maybe some things do need to be changed, and maybe my words will instigate that change. I’m not worried about being politically correct anymore, and if someone criticizes me for being irrational I just write it off to menopause. (I’ve found that to be a wonderfully effective excuse!)
I write because there are things I want to say. I hope you find them interesting as you read them!
Marie Pacha exploded onto the writing scene in 2001. Her first two ebooks are soon to be re-released in hard copy and her latest two are in bookstores now.
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