Until they bleed, writers stand in a circle, before one, behind another, scratching each other’s backs – reading, writing, reviewing. Yours is so well written, exciting, mesmerizing, now read my book.
Once in print, writers turn like a carousel for the public circuit – Facebook, talk shows, conventions, book fairs, trade shows, congregations, schools, radio broadcasts, audiences anywhere – whoever will listen. Arrived in a dream, born of my soul, please read my book.
Writing is a deeply, intensely private affair, conducted in silence in a space illuminated by the flame in our bones, propelled by the curiosity of our minds. Writers crouch over their words, bodies immobile, obsessed with story. Years of hard work, crafting the vision, someday read my book.
Only the fingers move, the fingers, the imagination –
And the blood.
Just a thought 30
Image of super blue blood moon