Side note. Just thinking out loud here, so it might sound a bit unusual. It’s just a small observance as a writer, but I think others might feel the same way.
It has come to my attention just how much I enjoy the sound of writing.
Well, to be more specific, I enjoy the sound of modern writing. In retrospect, I was never too fond of the sound of a pencil on paper — that dry, scratchy sound has always made my brow furrow in discomfort and my neck muscles cringe with every stroke. Nevertheless, in todays age, where all our writing is done digitally using little lettered plastic keys and a brightly lit LED screen, the sound of writing resonates very differently. It’s the very click-clack sound from those keys that seem to form an unorganized symphony in my head. The kind that can only be truly appreciated by those who know the craft. Kind of like contemporary art; only those who know and understand the craft can appreciate the disorganized confusion of random objects, colors, and textures.
Writing has a comforting sound to it. A sound that lets me know when I’m on a roll, or when I’ve hit a wall. A sound that reminds me of late nights manipulating words, forming sentences, and building paragraphs while stuck in a pensive, silent state of mind. All the times when ideas literally flowed through my fingertips and onto the screen with every key stroke. What I’m really, really good at. And what I was born to do — write.
In discovering this little tidbit about myself, I’ve come to realize that once you find yourself reveling in the most peculiar, quirky characteristics of your craft, that’s when you know you must be doing something right.
It’s the little things, I guess.