If I could take a snapshot of the inside of my head, this is what I imagine it would look like. Nothing is fixed. Its movements, its colors…it’s all fluid. Of course, I also have the attention span of a gnat sometimes, so that could have something to do with it, too. This is a picture of the San Antonio River, and I think water perfectly illustrates what writers do. We take the things around us, and we reflect them back to the world through our unique distortions.
Sometimes we cast shadows, or blur the edges to velveteen softness. Other times we bring things into stark relief, honing the knives of their edges to scalpel sharpness. We can reduce them to simple black and white, or we can explode them like a bag of Skittles, painting all of their nuances. We can nurture and we can destroy. You can dam us up, reroute our flows, or do your best to drain us, but our droplets are ideas and they are everywhere. Even things made of stone eventually fall prey to our persistence.
My ultimate dream is to one day make it to the Banned Books list. So far, I’ve only read 7 of them. I’m not a literature major, after all, and I do have a lot of reading I do. In fact, if you take the top 100 novels, I almost double that number. (I’ve read 13 of them.) How many have you read? Which one are you most interested in reading? Personally, I’m a bit OCD, so when I get the time to start this list, I’ll start at the top with The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.