6 Sep

I follow a lot of writers on twitter for the same reason most other people follow musicians and celebrities – I idolise them and yearn to be like them. The writers occasionally post snippets of their lives, photos, places they’ve been to and things that they read.

Today, someone tweeted about this website, Letters of Note. It features letters written by people, as far as I can tell, fairly recently, within the past 100 years or so. I spent about two hours going through them, and I realised that lots of people have a gift for prose and an engaging, vivid style. They have what my teachers call an authentic ‘voice’ that emerges strongly in their writing, almost as if you can picture and hear the person saying it. The letters are also wonderful, there’s like a hundred story ideas and a hundred opportunities but right now all I can feel is envy and despair.

It isn’t there, it’s not there at all, the magic, the special voice, the gripping beauty of writing, the combination of prose and poetry, it isn’t there. I don’t have it and I want it. I covet it.

I have to finish about 2000 words by tomorrow and I don’t know how am I going to do it now. I read the letters for inspiration but they are mockeries, taunting me with what I want to be.

I want to write, I need to write, but what am I supposed to do with all these words that won’t come out as they should?

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Peter Galen Massey

Haiku, Book Reviews, Commentary & The Occasional Nonsense


easy reading is damn hard writing is the best place for your personal blog or business site.

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