I'd love to tell you I have an extraordinary life - that I study
indifferently at college during the year but suit up to go skydiving,
hike river gorges, explore ruins, sell knives, climb mountains, and dig
at archaeological sites during the summer. But that would be the simple
truth, and a fiction writer's job is to tell amusing lies.
Of course, that's not entirely correct. After all, the
only lies that have ever amused the human race are the ones that are almost true,
and so that's what we write, you and I. Truth - we dress it up
and stand it on its head, hide it in fairy wings and in the eyes behind
the mask, give it a sword and a spaceship and send it whispering
through autumn rains and on the back of school notebook paper during
lunch break. You chew on your pencil till you taste the lead,
stare at the computer screen till your eyelids feel like wet sandpaper,
toss together your dreams and your moods and your facts and your soul
until they all run together like water down the back windshield and you
write. So in the end truth wears the many faces we create... not because it's
shy of us, but because we're shy of it. We paint faces of truth,
that we may look on it and live - we are writers.
* * *
"The aim of good prose words is to mean what they say. The aim of
good poetical words is to mean what they do not say." - G.K. Chesterton.
"It is with words as with sunbeams - the more they are condensed, the deeper they burn." - Southey.
"There is for every man a statement possible of that
truth which he is most unwilling to receive - a statement possible, so
broad and pungent, that he cannot get away from it, but must either
bend to it or die of it. Else there would be no such word as
eloquence, which means this." - Emerson.
* * *
If you want to know who I am, all you have to do is read.
But I appreciate reviews. =)
FictionPress.com - let the words flow
