“The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.” Vladimir Nabokov
Words are breadcrumbs leading me into the heart of a new story. Returning from the PNWA writers conference index cards, notes in the margins of handouts and underlined book passages spill out of my suitcase like the edible confetti from a piñata.
“Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.” E.B. White
Words are the tracks of an unseen object leading me further and further into the story.
“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.” Mark Twain
Elusive. Evasive. Subjective. Contrary. Words are the candles on this cake. Their incandescent flames leave an afterimage.
“I am made of earth, and my song made of words.” Pablo Neruda
A birthday celebrated with words: spoken, sung, silent, recollected and spent freely in a promise. Words – capable of constructing threats, negotiating truces or offering solace.