Okay, not ‘three exclamation marks excited’. Maybe two or one.
Ah well, what does it matter.
I read a ‘love letter’ the other day that was…nice. Properly constructed, with nice-sounding rhymes, words, etc.
But for some reason, it didn’t get to me. Felt quite alien. After re-reading, I realised the problem; the letter was perfect. And love, as we all know it, isn’t.
Love is beautiful and painful and confusing and magical and frustrating, and just about anything and everything. Today it’s a decision, tomorrow it’s a feeling, next tomorrow it’s a phenomenon.
Love is a whole lot of things. But one thing it isn’t, is perfect.
Then I had a thought…
I gave them free reign as to length, style, content…everything. I only made one demand; that it be authentic.
“…write from where you are now, and if you can’t, then get into the mind, body and soul of the character and write from there…”
“…no sugar in my tea type cliches…”
“…write it exactly as it’s doing you…”
Everything is raw and unrefined; the thoughts, the words, the language…it’s all just as it is.
There’s ten of us; five women and five men. Ten of my favourite writers. Writing about love as it’s doing us.
As per frequency, I’ll be putting up two a night between now and the 14th. Sometime between 9pm and 11pm.