Words are that way. We must look beyond the reflections to
dig out true meaning. Some words are sharp and defined while others are murky
and deceptive.
My writing is like that by design. Let the reader fill in
some of the blanks using their own life experiences but don’t overdo it.
Readers want to be presented with a story rather than write it themselves. The
meaning of my words can vary from person to person. Obscurity can bring out a
childhood memory; they may wonder “where did that thought come from?” and then
it becomes clear. Merge between darkness and light by stepping over a distinct line,
like the sharp edges of my hand’s shadow. The reader’s experience can range
from happiness to old memories that cause despair, and anything in between.
Peeking around a sharp-edged wall of shadow and looking
outward, the world seems much brighter but less defined. What can be more
uniform and steady than darkness? You can’t see what surrounds you. Your eyes
adjust, but shadows loom that are impossible to see through. Sounds hidden
during the day present themselves after nighttime settles in. Perhaps this is
the greatest fear. Instead of stumbling among familiarity you must deal with
unfamiliar nocturnal creatures of the night. Daytime birds retreat and other
creatures emerge. A stranger who hides in darkness is not the same person
lurking about in daytime shadows.
A new world emerges. Familiar ground becomes fresh again.
And I like to use this realm of the unknown in my writing. It’s obviously fiction, but close enough to reality
to make one pause.
