As a writer, I find that words consume the better part of my days. Not only do I use them in ways many people might not, but I can't help but to consider their deeper meanings, their collective place in this world, their power. Words inspire, relay ideas, break hearts, and give hope. They define cultures, start and end wars, and relay the most complex of ideas. They affect people in ways that only actions might prevail and take our minds to places both abstract and profound.
For the writer, words are the fundamental building blocks for creation. Not much compares to taking a blank screen and transforming it into something tangible and real to the mind's eye, one word at a time. A peer recently compared it to playing God. I disagree. Writing does not make one god-like; it makes one an artist, a vessel of the muses, a spokesperson for both the beauty and evils of humankind.
I can't speak for all writers, but I truly know I write because I must. I write because there is much unsaid in this world, too much, and someone needs to fill in the missing piecess. I believe that, through literature, mountains can be moved, people changed, and minds affected. Through words, writers have purpose. Through words, anything is possible.
I can't speak for all writers, but I truly know I write because I must. I write because there is much unsaid in this world, too much, and someone needs to fill in the missing piecess. I believe that, through literature, mountains can be moved, people changed, and minds affected. Through words, writers have purpose. Through words, anything is possible.
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