Tuesday, March 29, 2011

with a wave of my hand

Good writing is born of heart, not intellect. It is under appreciated and overlooked. It is at it’s most compelling when in service of truthful expression rather than outright deception. Simplicity is key, as words do not mix well when a monstrous, self-serving ego desires to reflect the author’s education and knowledge at the expense of the reader’s ability to comprehend esoteric words. Like esoteric for example.


Esoteric is defined as “understood by or meant for the select few.” Why should a novel, or story be written in a style that alienates readers who may not have had the time or inclination to acquire a formidable grasp of the English language?


There is no reason to present your story in a way that only a specific audience can hope to understand and appreciate. There is no reason why an author could not substitute esoteric for cryptic by way of example. What constitutes effective story-telling is the ability to discern it’s relevant parts and allow only that to blossom in the reader’s mind.


In my opinion, many highly paid writers and theologians are guilty of embellishment or spectacle when there is no need for either.


Spectacle can certainly arouse interest, yet it is often arrived at by treacherous means. Consider the television show Lost if you wish to observe deliberate affront in action. The resolution it eventually provides comes at the admission of betrayal once it is realized that there are no answers to the questions that have assaulted each viewer. It is a mindless, frustrating ordeal rather than a slow illumination in search of possibility. It leaves a sour taste in one’s mouth as it shyly shrugs it’s shoulders with palms facing outward and a wry grin on it’s face.


For me, the most compelling stories are the ones that posit a question with the intention of answering it. As Stephen King once remarked, there is an unspoken contract of honesty and trustthat exists between an author and his audience. It is of paramount importance that this agreement be honored, if one wishes to accomplish anything by their work.


With this being said, I have grown to appreciate good writing. Honest writing. Stories that respect their audience and attempt to answer or hint at solutions to universal issues such as poverty, crime, the fallibility of mankind, the existence of God, the corruption of wealth, the fragility of Government, the desecration of nature. Good writing can tackle philosophical dilemmas and provide us with a means to fully understand and sympathize with the human condition.


It can change people’s lives.


And by God, I hope I find it within myself to contribute writing of substance that will be welcomed for the honest truth it attempts to reveal.


To this, I promise myself.


And you.

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

The Goblin Under My Bed


There once was a Goblin living under a bed

It had a big green, hairy, misshaped head


One sunny day, the Goblin became quite bored.

He peeked out from the bed, opened his mouth and roared


The little boy who was reading high up above

took flight, like a scared feathery dove.


He ran downstairs, with a hurried stride

looking both ways, for a place to hide


he found a closet, and closed the door

but still he could hear, the Goblin roar


minutes passed, and hours went by

he peeked under the door, and smelled a delicious pie


as the little boy left the closet, turning the knob

he picked up a shoe, that he was readying to lob


What’s this, the little boy asked, with a frightened cry

seeing the scary old goblin, wearing an apron and tie


“come in come in” it sang out loud

it removed it's oven mitts, and looked very proud


the little boy stared, his eyes big and blue

hearing the Goblin shriek, saying “this is for you!”


“don’t be scared," it said, "this is not the end”

“All I really wanted, was for us to be friends!”


so together they sat, eating pie

best friends they would be, by and by.


===


Someday I'll make a fortune as a writer of children's books.