Sometimes, when you read something you have written, the words dance for you on the page. You are dazzled by their beauty and their music and you feel quietly pleased. You are a wordsmith! A sculptor of sentences! A god!
And then other times, when you read those very same words, they are lifeless and tuneless. Misshapen and clumsy. Ill-formed. You feel embarrassed by them and for yourself. You wonder why you even bothered.
But don’t worry.
Your words are like a strong white light and, every time they are read, they enter a prism and emerge as one of a million different colours — for you and for every other reader, whether a friend, an editor, a publisher or a stranger.
Your words are like a strong white light.
Remember this and keep writing.
This post is for Emilie.