If you can tell stories, create characters, devise incidents, and have sincerity and passion, it doesn’t matter a damn how you write.
– Somerset Maugham
Laura could hear the whisperers saying,
“Be quite, or ya, ya, ya… no one is listening!”
Embarrassed to speak out. The words did not sound as beautiful as in her mind. Then she noticed as she began to read more books she found that she understood complex concepts. Forming a natural relationship with symbols and archetypes that she was not taught in school. Yet, the whisperers continued to try and suppress her writing.
“You are dyslexic… you can not spell or talk correctly, or all those other people already are in College and now retired hold impressive degrees. Henry Rollins hates your guts.”
Laura did not stop writing.
As an older mature woman thinks to herself, she thought this to herself, “Why do people write? They are all unique as their finger prints. Some egos are too big and they do seem to want attention! Some write because they like being alone with the art of creation… melting into the vast aloofness of their creations. Touched by the fingerprints of vast words. Something beyond them trying to touch down here on earth.”
The whisperers mocked her again saying ….
“You are a melody that has been played too many times, a Jazz standard played every night for too many years.”
Laura then typed these words,
“I love the feelings that an old Jazz melody brings…”