Sometimes, while reading, I come across a line so beautiful, so well-crafted, that I wish I could put the words on the floor and roll on them like a dog to get their scent all over me and in some small way impart a bit of their magic to my own writing.  Such a line is this:

“She was a whiskey-soaked stretch of indestructible leather…” (from “Orcadia” by Timothy Irish Watt, appearing in the Spring & Summer 2009 issue of Alaska Quarterly Review.)

Entreat the gods and goddesses of writing (Nisaba and Nabu of Mesopotamia; Sehat and Thoth of Egypt; Fuxi, Wenchang and Cangjie of China; the Hindu Saravati and Greek Hermes; Norse Odin; and Ogma and Ogmios of Ireland) to bless you with such words.  THAT is what we strive for!


About Melissa Crandall

A million years ago--round-about the first Ice Age--I cut my writing teeth on fanzines and science fiction media tie-in novels. I'm happy to say that I've since branched out to include fantasy, horror, essays, and narrative nonfiction. This site will keep you up-to-date on my adventures in writing. I live in Connecticut with my husband--who frequently wonders what he got himself into by marrying a writer--two cats named Tuna and Gypsy, and a semi-neurotic Australian shepherd named Holly.
This entry was posted in Connecticut, Darling Wendy, editing, fantasy, Fiction, Literary Fiction, Mainstream Fiction, Melissa Crandall, Science fiction, Speculative Fiction, Writer, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s