Showing posts with label writer's role. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writer's role. Show all posts

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Off The Edge


A writer is a man who has taught his mind to misbehave. Stephen King

It's like coming off the end of one dream to settle into another spin of reverie. We are alive in the very roles we write. We grow one page at a time. And the qualities, which define us tows the same line and bonds with our stories to create distinct and unique universes. In time, the line between what we know is real and what we know only exists in the annals of our imagination blurs.

After a little bit, you tune into the shifts between the real and the conceived. And right there with the sunlight way over your head, you trance out. You wake into your fantasies and dream your wildest realities. Yeah, that's what you get for thinking too much.

We come into that place full of beginnings and endings and everything in between. And here's the amazing thang, this is no schizophrenic stuff. Oh no, but the invention of the strictest form of self discipline. It's like walking into a tangle of live high tension wires. You are standing off the wall and experiencing the best of two worlds. Maybe I ought to let King help me out,

Write enough stories and every shadow on the floor looks like a footprint, every line in the dirt like a secret message.

Deep in the storehouse of our psyches is another realm, vivid and inhabitable. A universe existing contemporaneously, side by side with what we know as the real world. Within its envelope of air are beings, peculiar, cultured or criminal minded, (your choice) all working to fulfill a dynamic plan and as alive as we are in our own existence. As real as you and I. On the insides of all of us, in the crypts of our hearts, sealed behind a vault bearing these inscriptions, "Come write in!"

The longer we fuss over the pages of our journals, the deeper our drives drag us into our fictional worlds, the closer we get to glimpsing the diminishing line. If we can cross that line from this realm into a world of our own making we would have scored a hat trick. Gained access to a ledge of endless bouts of inspiration.

First, we must train our senses to be so tuned up that we see reality in the imagined and visualize our imaginations working the scenes, lighting up reality like a glittering hieroglyph for,

A writer is a man who has taught his mind to misbehave.


Eneh

Enhanced by Zemanta

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Writer's Role

Writer's Stop
Writer's Stop (Photo credit: Stephh922)

We live within our characters. When they bleed, we bleed. When they die, a part of us-that part that stirred them into existence in the first place-dies with them. Our emotions meld and erupt as our stories reach a climax. We are gods who share; partake in the sufferings of his creation. Who feel what they feel in order to associate with their ideas and views of their 'imaginary' universe.

A place in which they are as alive and real as we are in our own world. An existence so real that a stroke off our pen could mark a fatal mistake or an irreparable loss in someone's previously perfect life-a tangible mortal sin that wakes to hubris.

In the roles we write, we are alive and present. We matter. . . 

The responsibility of a writer can not be played down.

Like bite marks on fossils identifying probable cause of extinction of a species, our scribbles outlast us. They become our voices and direct the imaginations of our readers, influence what they think they know about us.
 We all must push towards a point in our personal lives where we appraise our works through eyes of a reverence that's not arrogant. Pure and deserving of wo/men who create believable universes from the simple creed of creative thinking.

As chroniclers we define how the world we live in interprets the history of its people. The burden we've received can not be exaggerated.

When we pick up our pens to create a world through the power of the imagination, we ought to do it with the respect it deserves. The ideas we represent live forever. They will survive us long after our bone is dust to dust.

Laurence Dunbar, William Wordsworth, Sylvia Plath, Audrey Lorde and the army of writers who are no longer here with us did their share creating works of art for which readers and writers hold these in untamed reverence through the years.

We ought to live for something that will last. We ought to breathe our souls on the pages of our journals, weave our essences into the 'dots and slashes' and allow the waves of inspiration to muster the letters that form from the blots of our pen into phrases.

We are not to assume we will be up to this task when we are perfect.

We are writers. Writers write!
Like right this minute!

Keep your pen bleeding!


Akpan



Enhanced by Zemanta
Free counters!