The Writer's Magical Imperative
I write to create a world that I want to live in. It wasn’t always obvious that writing was an alchemical act, I just knew something happened when I put words on a page. As a nine year old, I received my first diary and the initial passage read simply. “Dear Diary, today is my birthday I am 9.” The words are unremarkable, yet when I go back and read them today, I notice my rough printing in orange pencil later gone over with blue ink pen to preserve the words. They halt and stalk over the page, youth pouring out of every hooked “j” and squiggly ‘l’. This surprises me. I remember feeling so advanced, so fluent as I wrote the events of the day. Words are Magic. The act of writing brings stories to life that would never breathe air if left in the imagination. Humans on the moon. Machines that can think. A world without war. In the first two examples, books preceded the actualization. People have always been dreamers and writers are a conduit for carrying the impossible