Inland, Dreaming of Waves

Toasters Repaired

I’ve just had one of those writing moments that makes it all worthwhile.

I was editing a poem that I first wrote four years ago. It’s a love story conducted by a cat, and I had always loved reading it to myself but hated reading it aloud. It’s mostly noun-verb-direct object sentences, which gets deadly boring in a reading.

But now I think I’ve fixed it so that it will read better. I’m going to memorize it so that I can give impromptu readings if I want, not be tied to a piece of paper with my oh-so-precious words on them.

The woman in the poem has power over electricity. Originally I had her fall in love with a groundskeeper, but then I hit on the idea of calling him “Groundsman,” to stand not only for the work he does caring for a park but also for his ability to ground her—because electricity that isn’t grounded is dangerous. I’ve been patting myself on the back all morning.

Now if I could just transfer this feeling to my fiction…

posted by Price of Silence @ 10:50 AM