I love words. Good thing huh me being a writer and all! When I sit down to write a piece it’s fascinating to me how the words tumble out — sometimes softly sometimes harshly almost with a mind of their own. There’s a magic to words especially when they describe the indescribable with such intensity and accuracy that the reader — and the writer — both intuit the exact intangible idea as though they could feel it with their fingertips.
But honestly people sometimes I can get carried away. Inexplicably I find myself impassioned by the luscious syllables. Craving to convey a message buried deep within my mind I string the words together like jumbled gemstones. And although they glisten and I sigh at their beauty eyes of other beholders blink in the glare.
Like this e-mail I received from an editor I know and love on a recent installment of my serialized story “Charades”:
To be honest this sounds like she’s high on something. It’s just too too. Gila is not this New Age-y “listen to your inner voices” type of person. It’s fine if she has an epiphany; we need a way to move her out of the hole she’s crawled into. But if you can tone it down a bit I think it will be far more believable.
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