A little after nine last night I look up from my television when I hear what can only be gunfire.
A single shout drifts through my usually quiet neighborhood, a single shout that swells, multiplies, grows into a cacophany of yelling. Car horns break up the screaming. The sky is on fire. Dogs are barking, and I hear the sound of church bells punctuated by more gunfire.
It sounds like the end of the world.
Unless you know the context.
Maybe you don't follow football, but--
The SAINTS are in the SUPERBOWL, baby!
When the game ended, the whole city erupted into celebration, that, at first glance, sounded almost threatening, maybe even apocalyptic if you've never been to New Orleans when something happens worth celebrating.
That made me think of my writing in an interesting way. Part of the reason our own writing seems so alive to us, is that we're seeing the whole story when we write, and read the words back to ourselves. The words have extra meaning to us because we associate them with pictures in our heads and moods that we're feeling. Moods that we may not be translating properly to the written word. Moods the reader may not be experiencing.
This is something I'm going to keep in mind next time I sit to write. Something I should know already, but I've never really been able to put into words before. Hopefully, my own revelations might help others, but this post will serve as a reminder for me. Just another writing resolution I'm going to try my darnedest to keep!
Had any good writing resolutions of your own, lately?
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