I’ve learned to trust myself as a writer. My heart is on the pages and readers can feel it beating.
That takes courage, not just once but every time. I imagine that’s why everyone has a story to tell but so few people put pen to paper.
I wrote a poem about it once. I hope you like it. However, I’m so glad the fire in my chest is an inferno now rather than the flickering flame it used to be.
I’m confident you’ll love the characters in my books. The reason being, you’ll learn from them exactly what it takes to overcome the impossible.
We all have obstacles inside and outside of our resilient souls. Let’s face them together.
Bits of Nothing by S.V. Farnsworth
I write upon the dead trunks of trees, paper dry and ink wet.
Want to be.
Press me softly lest I fail to tell the tale of a rising sea and a windy gale.
Trite.
Preferring failure, I digress, becoming loathe to put forth a single word.
Quitter.
I write nothingness, hiding in the branches of my mind.
Never was.
I am surrounded by leaves, the litter of trees, my words reduced to shreds.
Waste.
Forests hewn and ground to bits, I consume them by my hand.
Drain.
Forcefully tattooing my grief and love upon nature’s page, I mar myself.
Fool.
My will is not still. My hope flickers in the breeze.
Failure.
Undisciplined.
The volumes of my mind’s fruit are consumed leaving nothing.
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