"If you’re smart, you’ll let her play, knowing that life will teach her better than you can. Knowing that God is reaching up for her through the words trapped in her pencil, in her childlike scrawl. He is whispering to her."
Sound advice for raising a child in general and for whatever craft or skill they choose to explore. Let it play out.
I was a lucky little lad. My parents threw seven wooden letter blocks in my direction. I picked them up and after a few minutes, I was able to spell S-U-B-S-T-A-C-K with the blocks. The rest is history...
Ohhhhh my newly unlocked inner child is dancing like the shameless freak show she is. Might read this daily as a meditation. My god. Thank you. And thank you on behalf of my daughter. Passing this along 💛💛💛
I love the ghosts dancing in a writer's mind. Some of those ghosts are only shadows waiting to fill up with substance. At long last, they do and emerge with surprises. And the mother will be afraid, will try to exorcise them, but will fail. That is the most painful rejection of all. But the need to write will prevail.
This explains a lot in all of the wide range of independent fiction that I have come to of late, coupled with a changing perspective of advancing grayness. Thank you for choosing to share.
"[W]riters are born with a head full of ghosts."
This line is so metal and this article was a welcomed dose of beauty to my day.
This is absolutely the first and only time that anyone has ever described anything I've said as "metal", and I take it as the highest compliment! 😂
"If you’re smart, you’ll let her play, knowing that life will teach her better than you can. Knowing that God is reaching up for her through the words trapped in her pencil, in her childlike scrawl. He is whispering to her."
Sound advice for raising a child in general and for whatever craft or skill they choose to explore. Let it play out.
Absolutely! Exploration is so key to growth, whether you're 3 years old or 93 years old. May we never stop playing. ✨
Yes, I thought that, too! :-)
“If you’re smart, you’ll let her play, knowing that life will teach her better than you can.”
Boom 🤯
Dang it. In the words of Andy Dwyer, “I’m not crying. I’m just allergic to jerks.” Thank you for being a jerk. Jerk.
You're absolutely welcome. 😁
Yes, this. This is how a writer is born, how they grow, and how they live.
With Ghosts and characters and stories that come from out of nowhere.
Stories that they have to tell or they feel like they'll die.
💯💯💯
I was a lucky little lad. My parents threw seven wooden letter blocks in my direction. I picked them up and after a few minutes, I was able to spell S-U-B-S-T-A-C-K with the blocks. The rest is history...
Ha! See, it was eight blocks. I'm terrible at math, hence the writing!
Ohhhhh my newly unlocked inner child is dancing like the shameless freak show she is. Might read this daily as a meditation. My god. Thank you. And thank you on behalf of my daughter. Passing this along 💛💛💛
Beautiful! I think you called it an ode up at the top, and it is. Dang it! Who moved the Kleenex box again! 😅
I love the ghosts dancing in a writer's mind. Some of those ghosts are only shadows waiting to fill up with substance. At long last, they do and emerge with surprises. And the mother will be afraid, will try to exorcise them, but will fail. That is the most painful rejection of all. But the need to write will prevail.
This explains a lot in all of the wide range of independent fiction that I have come to of late, coupled with a changing perspective of advancing grayness. Thank you for choosing to share.
This is absolutely lovely 🥰