What do I do when the pen betrays me? I know I'm supposed to be in control. But there were so many times when the pen took over. There were so many times that I watched while the pen did the work and all I need to do was read. The pen provided not only the words, but the creativity, the rhythm, the method, the pull and the insight.
What do I do when the pen refuses to do my work for me? Could it be the pen is just tired, sick of me, allowing it, to fly solo. Maybe my pen is challenging me. Do I have a gift? Or is the pen the gift?
Does being a great writer require arrogance or self-consciousness? Does it require both? What makes someone talented? How many people have to co-sign your talent for it to be certified?
What if everyone co-signs but me?
How can I get my pen to trust me again? It wasn't always like this. The pen was my vessel. My foundation. My picture when words escaped my breath. So I want the team back. Me and the pen. I'll pull my load this time. I still can't believe the pen turned on me so quickly.
Maybe this will be the re-creation of me. Let's call it the Perfection of C.
I'll cut this short while we make a mends. Baby steps.
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