a world where more and more means less and less, in writing, it's still
the meaning that counts.
Good writing doesn't just appear, though it often appears that way.
It's like sports, actually. The great players make everything look effortless,
seamless, easy, as if the outcome was inevitable and never in doubt.
Their greatness comes from natural ability, to be sure, but ability
honed by hours and hours and years and years of practice, work, and
discipline. Writing, like sports, is process, and if you're lucky, because
luck is involved too, a product appears: a winning team, a great season,
a beautiful poem, a story that grabs you. The "magic" of good
writing is magic indeed, but also the result of many decisions, revisions,
and clear intent.
And then there is publishing, the bane and prize of all writers. The
finished work, chiseled from the heart, is the beginning of the publishing
process, not the end. Writing a poem or a story without publishing is
like composing a song and not singing it. It has nothing to do with
the quality of the work or the talent of the authorthere are a
gazillion wonderful unpublished works in the world. It has to do with
Writing is communication, and unless a work is meant to be private,
its intention is to be public. Publishingmaking it public, sharing
with the larger world, communicating, that's what writing is for. And
here, with I'll Never Be French,
we have both: product and process complete. I hope you enjoy your read.