This week’s post, as if you couldn’t already guess by the title, is about things that I don’t understand. Believe me, there’s a lot to list, but I’ve narrowed it down to a few. For instance, if Bigfoot exists, where's his poop?
believe that beauty is inherent in the majority of the written language that we use. Most of the instances that come to my mind come from fishing books. Perhaps this is because of my own affinity for fishing, or maybe it is because of the spiritual nexus that comes together when fishing, fisherman, water, and nature meet. The beauty does not even have to come from erudite language that moves circuitously through meaning like a winding mountain stream. Henry Winkler’s (yes, the Fonz) writing perhaps best demonstrates the beauty in simple language.
Deep breath. Loosen the shoulders. Close your eyes and open them. “Dang it! Nothing.” The cursor blinks mockingly at me on my blank Microsoft Word document. I get up from my chair and walk around my room. Apparently, writing a novel is more difficult than I thought. Where’s the dog, I think to myself. I... Continue Reading →