The Writer

A frustrated but determined writer had the character of a woman form in his mind. The character did not seem destined for stardom, but she almost forced her way into the writer's mind, a creature determined to be born. She was on odd mixture of shyness and fierce determination; insecure but at the same time knowing and comfortable with who she was. She appreciated the lightness of things at the same time she saw the world for its sharp, swirling colors. Imagination was her tool, the way a carpenter employs the hammer, a boxer his fists, a madame her cleavage.

With surprising ease, the writer brought the character to life in his mind. Her smile, the way she walked, the way she laughed. The way she cowered during a storm or cried during a movie. Before long, her image was as crystal in his mind as his clearest memory.

But the character ached to be brought to life. And a writer cannot do that. Not alone. So the writer tried every angle, turned over every stone. After much effort, he found a producer, one who saw the vision. And the producer applied all his muscle, all his know how. At last a director was found, a studio, camera crews, actors. A character is nothing without these, a ghost waiting to get into the world, living in a universe of ghosts who never make it. But this character was determined to live, determined to take her place on the stage. And when it all finally came together, and the lights came on, and the director yelled "action!"...Dena was born into the world.

 

by Kevin Lenihan ~ about me