My writing is very much like my cooking. Sometimes I make a gourmet meal and score rave reviews from the hubster, and sometimes I flop in such an epic way that even my dogs can’t be tempted to taste my culinary blunders. (Here is Rupert, my five year old Shiba Inu, expressing his disdain for one of my more recent failures.)
Each new day brings the possibility of a pleasurable writing experience and if the hubster is lucky an edible meal, but I can’t always count on either one of those things happening.
While writing can be effortless at times, experience has taught me that it can just as easily be complicated, if not downright arduous. More often than not, pesky little things called words get in the way of my writing.
Now don’t get me wrong, I adore words, but words are sometimes mischievous and problematic especially after they have been poured out onto a page. They enjoy taunting, provoking and confounding me, as well as posing knotty little problems for me to tease apart for hours at a time.
I spend a good portion of my day pushing unruly words around, and coaxing the ones which have gone astray back into line. I have even been known to give particularly troublesome words a good slap and banish them from a sentence altogether.
By my hand (and red correction pen), words often suffer a cruel, but necessary fate for refusing to acquiesce to my wishes, but I really can’t be blamed. When I am forced to chase words about a page and beat them into submission, it’s rarely worth the effort to keep them around.
There! I’ve finally admitted it! I’m not proud of my abusive behavior towards certain words, but I have found I have to be firm and let them know who is in charge.
FYI, I do not advocate, endorse or participate in violence towards any LIVING creature. I assure you, I just mistreat words and that’s only if they’ve aggravated me to the point of frustration.
I’d best shut my trap before I dig my hole any deeper, but I find myself wondering if I’m the only writer that takes such a harsh stance with words. I think not, but I could be wrong. They say confession is good for the soul and remember people, let he who hath not sinned cast the first stone.