Words

                                                           Words

Words are powerful.  Mere words invoke rage, loathing, fear, or joy, mirth and laughter.  Skillfully linked words can hypnotize: Ever sat up all night reading?    The writer caught you, fair and square.  Wrapped you in his yarn.  Forever separated by time and distance, you peek into his mind and share a moment.  Will you know if he lies?  How he truly feels?  Can you be fooled?  Let’s see:

I’m a bigot, I confess.  Bigoted against bigots, that’s me.  I loath bigots of any kind: Racism, sexism, nationalism (or should I say patriotism, fine line after all), you get the picture.  You don’t have to embrace the whole multitude of cultures, hues and beliefs of our ingenuous race.  No, you don’t, but how can anyone fail to revel in the sheer variety of our little globe?  What right have any of us to point at another and say, you are wrong, twisted, evil, less worthy than I.  Is there anything more tiresome than the intellectual bigot? 

They take our jobs, the very food from our mouths.  You know who I mean.  That promotion you wanted, did you get it?  No?  Did you fall victim to minority pandering?  Oh, you know what I mean, positive discrimination policies: Not quite got what it takes?  Not a problem, just play the minority card.  Did something wrong?  That’s okay, not your fault.  You didn’t have the advantages, the opportunities to follow the straight and narrow.  Discriminate for one then surely discriminate against many.  So, who is the victim?  Are we equal?  Truly? 

What do you think?  Who am I? The first, or second, could I be neither or both?  Want me to tell you?  I could, but what would be the fun in that...

Why it's scary: writing is a lot like being caught naked.  Writing let's that little voice in your head – out in public – if you let anyone read it. 

Let's say - you're telling the story of a serial killer.  To create a great story you have to be the character; to know them intimately.  The greater the empathy you feel for the characters the more real they are.  To write a horror story, you must first conceive the horror; you are the shadows in the night.  The mangled corpse came from your mind - and you're telling the world, this is what I make-up; for fun.  Wouldn't you rather be naked? 

If you stop to consider who might peer inside your head, will you waver, hesitate, or thrill us with your honesty and chill us to the bone?  It's scary because, if you do it wrong, you've just flashed us and we ALL think you're a pervert.  Well, maybe not – my insecurities are showing again, aren't they?