Aren’t we
all so proud?
We went to the moon. We discovered fire, and invested it.
Everything we discover, we are aware and smart about it. We use and invest it
for more.
And we are praised for it by those who didn’t witness such phenomenal
accomplishments. We encourage it.
Though of course, those accomplishments did not happen in
matter of days. They took time and effort and patience and money.
Now, let’s shift
the point of view.
Words.
They’re just
letters. Combined together, they have meaning. The results are too combined
together. This took SO much time before. More than a Millennia. But we made it.
Now, it literally takes less than seconds to combine letters
then words then you have a book.
A book.
A pile of papers linked together that hold absolute magic.
It’s so authentically mesmerizing when
we put it in a literal context, right?
When you’re
holding a book, reading it, scanning a paragraph after another, this doesn’t quite occur to you. Why would it?
You’re too caught up in the brilliance of
the string of words attached together in a beautiful symphony of over a hundred
pages.
Stay caught up. You have the actual product of a human being’s hours, days, hell… years of thoughts, and feelings, and
doubts between your hands.
You have a stranger’s soul
in your hands. But they’re only
a stranger up until you’ve
closed the book. Because then, when it’s all
said and done, when your heart’s thrown
into a vortex of everything… you
know the author because you know their creation.
Creation. What a Powerful word, damn it!
Writers are actually Gods. And trust me, what they’re truly capable of is even beyond
that book you just finished and rocked your world. That book has been edited,
re-written, and revised countless of times to be presented to you in the best
shape.
Honestly, as magnificently, captivatingly, and utterly
beautiful reading is… I do
wish I had the impossible privilege of watching a writer write.
Like a guardian Angel. Being there when the idea came to
them. When it gave birth to thousands of other ideas. When their head was
nearly about to explode from all the ideas and subtexts and details crammed in
there. When they decide it’s time
to let them all breathe into paper and ink. The first attempt at an
introduction. First failure to make a good cliffhanger. The painful frustration
when the hand can’t translate the mind. Coming
up with foreshadowing. The struggle to find good places to insert that foreshadowing.
That look of excitement and amazement and astonishment when you let your brain
steer your fingers and the result literally freaked you out because it was so
awesome and you couldn’t
believe you came up with something so amazing!
The first drafts before being tweaked here and there. All of
that. If I could have a superpower, being able to witness all of that would be
it.
Because all those behind-the-scenes moments, they’re the ones responsible for the
magic. Immortal magic created by literal mortals whose voices in their heads
were too loud to not be recognized.
It’s not
climbing into a space shuttle and landing somewhere far away. It’s the act of imagining what’s out there before you see it. Because
when you see it… that’s it. That’s the
limit.
But with imagination, there is no such thing as limits.
No comments:
Post a Comment