Oh boy, oh joy. The mailman broughteth the new issue of Confrontation. Just when I’m feeling inadequate and uninnovative as a writer, imaginative and creative as the slowly slug. (slow + lowly = slowly, adj.)
Why doth the pain and depth of reality perceived not reach intoeth (love that one!) the mind from heart so seared by burning fires? The soul cannoteth (another good one!) help protect, its flimsy filmy wisps of thought would turn to smoke if held too near the flames.
But yea and verily I say unto you and self again in seeking, never straying from the light at end of darkened path: We must learn to read before we learn to write.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
I love reading but do so little of it these days. It’s been like this for a couple of years now. I’m not sure where I’m going wrong in the balancing act. When I walk in the door at night, there are a half dozen things that I’d like to do, only time to maybe do two and energy for one!
While on vacations I read two books but now that I’m back home – nada. I feel inspired about writing after reading and always see new ways of improving my own technique. But when the choice comes down to updating one of my two blogs, working on a short story, staying organized around the house and such, how can I choose to sit down with a book???
Lauren
On first glance ‘cannoteth’ looked to me like ‘carnototh’. Isn’t it strange how these two made up words can feel so different?
Jason
I know what you mean, Lauren. The toughest part for me is just to sit and read and lock the world out. I can do this to write, but not to read for some reason.
I never know what YOU mean, Jason. But I love you anyway.