The Experiment.

What does it take to write something worth reading?  How much time did authors of the past put in in order to ensure that their words, like verbs, were moving?  How many strikes of a pen through struck out words did Hemingway make before it was enough?  When is something finished to the point of publication?

Questions seemingly unanswerable are ones on which we writers thrive, yet they can also be to our detriment, our demise.  As a writer or something like it, I know the sorrow which befalls a blank page.  Taunting.  Especially when we can do naught but write tautologies.  Yes, music is like sound, but it is so much more than that as well.  Yet here in the space between idea and expression is where words so often fail.  Here, writers strike through word after word while trying to find the right ones.  The life of ideas is cut short here.  This is why the pen is mightier than the sword: swords can rend flesh and tear sinew away from bones, but they can never touch the life of an idea.  The pen is the only weapon strong enough to cut through the embodiment of ideas: words.

This is a place I will practice my craft.  I will write.  I know not yer if any will read these musings, but I like the idea of a grand experiment to see if I can raise an army's worth of words.  Though, not to do battle with anything but my own ideas.  I can't always guarantee an amazing experience from each and every word I write, but I can say that the words will at least strive to sound nice.  This is not to say I'll always be kind.  Sometimes, we must simply say what's on our mind in order to let it breathe and give it room to grow.

I know not yet what it takes to write something worth reading.  Someday, I'll find this out.  I only hope someone is around to read it when I do.