Writing

I love to write – and I love to edit.

There was a time when I preferred editing. I found it easier to correct, sharpen or “improve,” (according to the Bible of “me”) someone else’s brilliantly-crafted ideas.

No compulsion in the world is stronger than the urge to edit someone elses document. —H. G. Wells

I’ve just come off a three-month ordeal that required a lot of writing. The whole project energized me, but especially the writing. What I dislike most now that it’s over is the vacuum where a must-communicate demand used to be. I whipped out web pages and promotional emails as easily as drinking water. And for me, apparently, just as refreshing.

Writing is especially compelling when there’s an urgent message to convey or a mind-blowing insight to reveal, not so much that people’s lives would be changed as that they would see one (me) as an embodiment of wisdom or enlightenment.

That’s pathetic. But it’s also the reality of many a writer.

I’ve known since I was in the 6th grade and won a poetry contest (probably the only entry in my age group) that I wanted to be a writer. I’ve since spent decades doing other things—many involving writing in some ancillary way, such as developing brochures for organizations that had no idea what they needed to say to their not-yet-adoring public.

Most fun for me is when I do see an idea from a new perspective. I want to write about it. Because possibly even more than writing I love teaching. Either way, I’m compelled to communicate to change someone’s mind. Persuasion. How to win at that is another topic for another day.

When we’re children, we fancy people who mirror our thoughts—we both love grape soda, so we must be best friends and find two straws.

As a young adult, I noticed I liked to sit on the edge—observe the group from almost outside the circle. Inside enough to understand them; outside enough to bring in ideas that did not already exist in the group. Like a painter, I portrayed a recognizable scene with colors and emphasis that were all my own, giving new life to old ideas.

I’m not the best writer, not a Pulitzer winner, not a great or even compelling poet. What I think I am is clear. Creative enough to keep your attention (you read this far already?). Do not own a golden keyboard. But insightful. Passionate.

What about you? What passion of yours have you shared this week, and how did you do that? Did you create a new dish, bead a bracelet, plant your fall bulbs, tune up your car?

What have you done for you lately?

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