Hiding in a Paragraph

Cover Art by Fran Murphy

I just published my 100th Blog post this week. Looking over my one hundred entries I noticed that I’ve written on scores of subjects, yet I don’t believe that I’ve ever written on the subject of writing. I guess I’ve sort of kept this topic tucked away. It’s something so personal that I tend to keep it to myself...forgetting that it’s a viable topic. I think about it all the time; probably as much as a devoted mother does her only child. Writing is always with me. So, today I intend to share some of my thoughts on writing.

Words are the expression of our souls. We speak of the things that live inside of us: our hopes, fears, dreams and passions. We often write about sensitive things…topics that we may find hard to talk about. We hide our feelings in our paragraphs like spies seeking a way to communicate--without really speaking. It’s as though by writing we create a safe distance between our feelings and our selves…a cushion of sorts.

As writers we have an immeasurable palette of colorful words and an endless supply of white paper canvases on which to create our soul paintings…this is our art.

I write because it allows me the freedom of expression without the hesitancy of the tongue…that nervousness that arises when it’s my turn to speak. I have so much to say but I’ve never been completely comfortable with the stage. Writing provides me with a stress-free stage from which to speak.

I write to figure things out. Solve the mysteries of my life. When I’m tied in a knot, and confounded, I write with reckless abandon; tearing away at my inhibitions like an erotic stripper, until I’m running naked and free, and smiling at the intimate beauty of it all.

I write because I am a full vessel whose contents have communal value. In order to remain full I must pour myself out; imparting to partake. I do this with honesty, passion and fear; showing my nakedness to the world in order for the world to embrace its own nakedness.

I don’t write for an agent’s approval or for monetary rewards. If these come I will joyfully accept them as the fruit of my labor; I don’t need them in order to validate my work. My work validates itself.

These days there is a lot of agitation in the publishing industry. Between e-pubs and a sinking economy, agents are desperately searching for that “sure thing”, and are very reluctant to take on new authors. Although frustrating, this needn’t be a negative thing. It simply is what it is. I believe that if the writing is good, then in time, the work will rise to the top…like cream.

As writers, we are the ones whose art provides publishers, agents, and a number of others with a living. These days it seems everyone is fighting for a piece of the literary pie. We now have the tools to publish our own works. We needn’t wait countless years for the approval of an agent.

My novel, Cosette’s Tribe, in spite of numerous queries and a recent literary award, still sits like a demure debutante waiting for a suitor. She needn’t wait forever, after all she’s in her prime…and ready to dance. It just might be time for mother to take things into her own capable hands. I certainly don’t intend to shelf a manuscript that took me years to create because of the greed and indifference of a desperate industry. I will lovingly present her to the world on my terms and let the readers decide her fate for themselves. Readers do have the discernment to choose what they like in spite of what the publishers may think.


If you would like to read the first two chapters of Cosette’s Tribe simply click on the link entitled “The Blotter Literary Magazine” at the top right hand side of my blog. It might take a couple of minutes to load, so go grab yourself a drink and then come back and meet my firstborn, Cosette. Her story starts on page 4.