I write to the sound of music.
It is a melody I want people to feel when they read my writing.
I want them to be touched by the rhythm of my emotions as I expose my soul to the world.
I strive to uncover my love, my anger, and every ounce of me and let it drip into the minds of all who read me.
They are moments when I am weary — moments when I am tired to the bone with no rest in sight.
When I am sometimes wary of the pen, not confident in the only craft I have ever cherished.
I find a quiet place within myself and let the music flow and with it my words.
There are moments when I am alive with ideas, and I can hardly control the tempo of my thoughts.
That is when I feel I can write the next great poem, or start the novel that will turn the world on its ear.
I suffer quietly through the heartbreak of my characters.
I shed tears for their loss and their joy.
I cower in corners when fear takes their breath, and lives hang in the balance.
I stand empty, with thoughts rumbling under the surface.
I hear music and my soul dances.
It is a melody that pushes me to write, and all at once, I am a geyser, my words bursting free to give hope, light, and love to the world.
I don’t know how the world will receive my writings, but I cannot stop writing my words.
They have remained private for fifty-five years, and now they are flowing to all who will indulge.
I am the rhythmic flow of my life, sharing it with my pen.