So you can read my books

Thursday, May 28, 2015


There is a land not too far from where you sit right now.

Its velvet grasses miss the press of your feet.

The billowing clouds strain to see your body walk slowly up the rising hill.

The fragrant winds blow through the lonely tree branches, whispering your name as they seek some trace of you.

It is where the magic lives.

That realm is lonely, wondering where you have been.

And where have you and I been?

We have been caught up in the drudgery that writing has become. 

Burdened by life's duties and our own doubts, we have lost our way. 

We have lost the magic.

Did we lose it straining for that first perfect sentence in our new novel?

Looking at the blank, impatient computer monitor did we forget the simple wonder of just writing the first simple sentence that occurred to us?

That creative power which bubbles so tingly at the beginning of our book quiets down after a time. 

The journey becomes slower and slower, the inertia of doubt steadily dragging our steps.

Do we continue doggedly on or do we stop to refresh ourselves?

The answer to that question determines whether we find our way back to the magic or not.

How do we refresh ourselves?

How do we refresh ourselves on a long wilderness walk? We stop by a stream and drink.

Drink of those poets and writers who sparked that love of the written word spoken in the lonely heart of the reader.

As a hiker takes shade under the canopy of a huge oak, 

listen to the music of those artists who stirred you to imagine images that you just had to write and make live in your own way.

Then, you shall write as a child writes ... 

not thinking of a result but thinking in terms of discovery as if you were hiking once again where the magic lives.

It is the Zen of writing: 

the creation takes place between your fingers and the keyboard, not before in a thought or afterwards in a recasting.

The magic is there waiting for you. It will come if you but get out of its way and let it in.

Speaking of which ...

Chrys Fey has me and my ghostly friends over at her blog, talking about writing:

It'll go live at 7:00 am Easter Standard time on the 29th. :)

See you there.  The ghost of Mark Twain says if you don't visit, he'll send the ghost of H P Lovecraft with a personal invitation!


  1. I have been to Chrys' place, nice to see you there. This post speaks to my heart today, which felt down as I do miss working on my novels. I have been weighed down with the necessities of selling house, and other things. Thanks for for the words!

  2. The world without may be stressful, but we can construct a world within that heals when we briefly visit it during a hectic day. I pray for life to ease up on you and yours while you execute this move. Find a moment to laugh and breathe deeply. You are in my thoughts. :-)

  3. This is a beautiful reminder, Roland and expressed in a poem! Love it. Yes, my two novels in progress sit idle b/c of all those things you mention. What would Mark Twain say? He's on my night stand right now. :) Thanks for this reminder of the pure joy of writing.