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\nNote: Image is “Old Books 2\u2033 by (nkzs) from SXC.hu<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Tonight I closed the cover on a book that I love.
\n I had not read it, or its sister, in half a decade. Why? Because the trilogy remains unfinished and it breaks my heart, to love it so and to never know how it ends. There are so many unanswered questions. So much…
\n But recently, after feeling very much out-of-touch with my own writing, I picked those two amazing books up and re-read them. I understand now, more than ever, why they are not for everybody. But to me, they are fantastic. They are the epitome of the kind of novel I love – rich characterizations, a fascinating world, history living upon the pages and in the acts of the characters – and I will always adore them.
\n But closing the cover tonight – it really hurt a little. Because I am not convinced that I will ever move any one to tears with my words, the way Melanie Rawn (you glorious Goddess, you) moved me.
\n And that’s all I want – all I have wanted for…ever.
\n You know, that’s how I knew<\/b? I wanted to be a writer when I grew up. Because I always wrote, I always loved writing. But it wasn't until my teen years when I knew<\/b>…
\n When I got the Jean Valjean’s passing in “Les Mis\u00e9rables” the first time I read it… I couldn’t see the page for the tears and I just held that damn book to my chest and rocked back and forth for a few minutes, crying.
\n I knew, right then and there, I knew that I wanted to write and someday, somehow, move just one other person the way Victor Hugo had moved me.
\n Maybe its selfish, I don’t really care. Because books are magic; stories are these living, amazing things that can<\/b> teach and touch our hearts and render us speechless or make us babble like idiots in a frenzy of excitement.
\n By the time I publish this little rambling rant, I should be a few thousand words into my latest project. I won’t write about it here – because… pen name – but fingers crossed that I can finish it. That I don’t begin to drift from my own stories for fear of failure, that I allow all the words in my heart to pour out on the page (even if they suck). Fingers crossed that, in weeks or months hence, I will give that story to someone to read and that when they get to the end, they too will close the cover and cry.<\/p>\n
\nNote: Image is “Old Books 2\u2033 by (nkzs) from SXC.hu<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Tonight I closed the cover on a book that I love. I had not read it, or its sister, in half a decade. Why? Because the trilogy remains unfinished and it breaks my heart, to love it so and to never know how it ends. There are so many… <\/p>\n