Play Nice

A word about the original writing found on this site

Unless otherwise noted, these are my words, ideas, thoughts and feelings. If you like them great, if you don't that's fine too.

You're welcome to quote my writing, but please make sure you include a link back to the page from which you got the material.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
Creative Commons License



[This is where the summary would go if I'd bothered to write one.]

« SilenceLove song »
Letting It Flow

The words were inside of her, this she knew. The rhythm, the flavor, the music was a part of her. Often she believed that if she were to cut a vein open, instead of blood, words would flow. Great gushing waves of pure life.

She imagined staring at the flow as it pooled around her feet, trying to make sense of the letter jumbles. Imagined sinking into the mess and holding her wrist with her good hand as the flow slowed down to a trickle.

Then, with her arm gingerly nestled against her stomach, she’d use her right hand to sift through the words, cool and wet, dark against her pale skin.

Pushing the letters and words around like domino tiles, finally feeling like she had control over this need to create. The letters full of crisp corners, long lines, making it easy to connect them together, to build the foundations of a story.

Her legs were cramped and the sole of her right foot was digging into her left knee, but she was afraid to move. She knew that if she were to move all semblance of control would slip away as quickly as her last breath.

She stared at her left arm, flexed her fingers as her right index and middle fingers felt for a pulse and gently traced a vein up to the bend in her arm. She sighed and stood up. Daydreaming wasn’t going to get the job done. She walked to her reference shelf and pulled down a thesaurus. Carrying it back to her desk, she sat down and began to look up the words she needed to work into a story. Staring at the intricate curves and angles of each word she longed for those domino tiles.

Published 01/02/03 in Writing • | Views: 1840 times | Print

2 Comments & Trackbacks


Posted by Bobby  on  01/02  at  10:25 PM

When I was attempting to get a novel done (4 years and counting now…) I used to have dreams where pieces of paper were blowing around my apartment with words on them, but when I looked at the words I couldn’t read them because they were blurry or the letters spelled nonsense words.  I never figured out the dream, and after 4,213,754 rewrites I’m still years away from finishing.

I used to also have dreams where I was inside the plot of the novel, like being inside a different reality.  A friend said that if you dream you are inside the novel, you will finish it soon.  I don’t know where he heard that crap, because I keep getting nowhere.

Posted by stacey  on  01/02  at  10:33 PM

Post a comment





First time commenting? Please read the disclaimer. Thanks.

Remember me

Subscribe to comments?

Submit the word you see below:

Love it live.
Your comment will appear below as you type.