“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” – Ernest Hemingway
I have not yet written a book, but I have written 600 blogs since January of 2009, and each time I sit down to write I am aware I am revealing a portion of myself. The words I write can be obscured by imagination, pride, humility, or exaggeration; but I am never completely hidden in the words written. My true self will bleed through in some corner.
Writing is always hard work. I must choose a topic of interest to others, choose the right words, choose the right order of those words, choose the right edits so that each sentence has only one interpretation and is understood by all. Then I must go back and choose better words and better ways of ordering the words. I must make the writing poetic while sticking to prose. I must choose to remove words that I previously and thoughtfully placed in just the right place. I do this so that the writing will be succinct and clear. Then I must rightly choose punctuation to aid the reader and guide the rhythm of the piece. In the end, all writing is music and must touch the ear as well as the heart.
I leave behind this body of work that even those who do not know me from anything but these words can begin to understand a portion of me. These words are small windows that shine light into the inner courtyard of an overgrown castle. They push me to be a better writer and a better person. I seek to write intelligent words that others will find helpful and inspiring; words that will challenge us all to thirst for right in the world; to hunger and thirst for justice and righteousness. May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in the sight1 of both readers and God.
1 Psalm 19:14