Cloaked between book jackets and covers, words sleep. Slumbering stories wait. Authors stolen by death long ago, live again under the caress of the readers eye.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert
Reader
Dear Writer, (the capture)
My triumph in writing, is to capture an emotion. Words, sentences, and paragraphs, are made and remade. Thick gray grease is wiped away from the lens of the minds eye. The image comes into focus, as draft after draft falls to the floor. When the reader finds it, the emotion may live again.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert
Drink up words, drink up people
I am an avid learner. My favorite question is,
“What is your story?”
Like groundwater, hidden in the belly of the earth,
I pump ideas out of my mind and onto the paper.
Characters, plots, and subtext evaporates as stories,
are watered for the ultimate harvest.
The volume of my mental aquifer will soon be depleted,
if I do not read, and drink up new ideas in flowing words.
The resource of writing will go dry and die of thirst,
if I do not listen, and drink up the tales of others.
A writer cannot live without the water of the reader,
a reader cannot live without the streams of the writer,
a beautiful and fragile ecosystem, must be cared for,
because a resource robbed from a cycle, is lost forever.
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
Dear Writer… (Thought 2)
Dear Writer,
A story may fall from a leaky mind, turn to ink, then trickle and tickle its way to dry paper. Consider for a moment, dear writer, that the pipeline from imagination, to final draft is clogged. Debris, trash, and sloppy slush impedes ideas from taking shape into sacred words. Writing emerges flawed, and saturated with muck. The triage of story is full. But, you are writing! You are in the fight! Don’t give up!
- Draft 1: Severely wounded, ideas are weak and dying!
- Draft 2: Grammar Transplant, terminal wounds!
- Draft 3: Character Blender, Blood Bath!
- Draft 4: Beta Readers, are not impressed…
- Draft 5: Draft is breathing on its own… more bandages.
- Draft 6: Plot Surgery, the story crawls…
- Draft 7: The real editing begins… Limb grafts…
Soon, writing is strong enough to conquer the hearts of the readers. Eventually the battle to tell your tale, is won!
Critisism, dear writer, may be your friend. There are 318.9 million people in the United States alone. Billions in the world. If your writing, becomes an etched monument in the town square, shouldn’t it be as good as it can be? If it has 1 million readers, that enjoyed the experience, isn’t all the criticism worth it? If the seventh book written is the one that makes it, then the heavily criticized and wreckage of the first six, becomes, worth it? Yes!
Dear writer, there good criticism. Beta readers that are story inspectors. They point at flaws, and reveal concerns. You, dear writer, are the Engineer, Architect, and Mechanic of your tale. Will you allow criticism to be your flashlight to see the necessary repairs needed?
Remember, dear writer, there is dark criticism. Avoid it. If you believe your topic, then write about it. If someone attacks your topic, then ignore it. Pay attention to those who would criticize the format and nature of the delivery truck, not the product it carries. Remember, there are those who attack writers, simply just to attack. You are in motion, you are in the fight. You are writing, dear writer. There will always be more people in the crowd shouting insults, then will be warriors in the arena willing to swing the sword (or pens and keyboards in your case). Insults of topic and beliefs are not criticism.
When the reader is given a experience and a journey, though a clean and unclogged pipe of finished writing, you dear writer, with good criticism, have won!
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
Dear Writer…
Craft for me a tale, dear writer. Craft for me a tale.
Within title, I require enticement.
Upon the first sentence, our relationship, as reader, and writer, hangs upon a thin silky spider web…
At this crossroads, many books die, soon after they are born.
More dust than readers, are captured in the cool night air, on lonely metal shelves, fat with static inventory. Waxy covers hold tight, to pages that will never feel the caress of a reader. Chapters are entombed, hungry for eyes, minds, and hearts. They starve, in silence. Pages suffocated from wine spills, coffee stains, and greasy fingers, they long to be touched, and turned.
And yet… you are strong, and wise dear writer. Your tale may yet live! Now, craft for me a paragraph!
Ahh yes! The first two trials, dear writer, you have conquered well. Now, the true test begins. Fortify my conquered heart. Your won battle, can become of lost war, if the first paragraph is stale. I am interested, I am engaged, I suddenly care, like rose petals reaching for warm morning sunlight.
Chapter 1 falls valiantly under my sharpened eye. The smell of new paper, slimy wax, and fresh ink fill the air. My mind is fed, and fed well. You have given me power in our journey, I suspect, I wonder, I want more. Have you heard the term, “Harry the explainer?” Well, that is certainly not you, my new writer friend. Not you at all. I shout, “Well done!” Everyone in the coffee shop gives me a funny look. I hold your creation high. Look upon this book that has enticed my outburst. Look upon it well, for you should read it too! Bravo, you have respected me, your reader with polished and refined word play. You know your craft…
Onward writer! Craft for me a tale! Soon you will win the war, and I shall sing of your tale, to other hearts, that are hungry, for you dear writer, to consume your crafted tale…
2017 © Zachary W Gilbert
Zachary W Gilbert, Author 