Sitting on the bus scribbling out my thoughts on Google Docs at 50 letters per minute, I kid I’m not the fastest of texters. While my fingers touch the incorrect buttons more times than the correct ones. Auto Spell on a Good Day is a shortcut but on a bad another drama. The other night, unable to sleep, I began reading a book preview on Google. It was a memoir written by someone I once knew. Memoirs are not something I happen to read that often so I didn’t mind not being able to read the whole book. Out of curiosity, I read through the first few available pages. As I had learned through Instagram the author has written for various publications. He must be a good writer, I told myself, having seen the list of magazines and news outlets. It only took the first paragraph to get me interested. You had me at the first full stop. My interest wasn’t caught by the story but by the style of writing. He used words creatively to explain the smallest of details and elongated sentences to describe the moments, moods and feelings. By the end of the page, I can say I became a fan of his creative work. The more I read the more I wished I could write like that. Of Course practice and tons of it are needed. Being my own worst critic, I hope one day I will be able to confidently say others have enjoyed my work and I’ll be proud of my words.
Blame It On Art 