“I paint a thousand pictures here
on the inside of my skull,
Sometimes I'll crack it open
though my instruments are dull”
~ ‘Writer’s Block’, by Terry Scott Taylor
from his album “John Wayne”, 1998
It has been said that every writer has a million bad words inside of him; he needs to write all of them out before he gets to the good stuff. I figure that I’ve written much, much more than a million words, from student essays, through to short Facebook witticisms, to reams of work related writings courtesy of an anachronistic legal documentation process. There’s no way to be sure if all this writing counts towards my personal million.
I write now because I must. I write because what is inside needs to get out. There is choice, there is always choice, because I don’t want to give over my free will to characters on a page. And yet, there remains a compulsion, born in a degree of natural ability (not more than a reasonably functioning brain, really), nurtured by education, refined by writing out a million damned words...
That's all for now! Check FB again in a week for the URL to the complete piece. I'll be posting a new piece every week on a Friday, all going well. Feel free to leave a comment, recommend it to friends if you feel it worthy. Thanks for reading!
Love the snippet. Can't wait for the rest of it! Well done precious one.
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