The Mysterious Traveller

Those Dazzling Eyes. It was the way that she looked at him that stopped his mindless gazing and focus on her pair of beautiful, but deadly eyes. They were so alluring, so dazzling. But was she really looking at him? Or perhaps someone behind. The latter was more probable; why on earth would she be looking at him?     Jerry would often sit on the same stool in the same bar, daydreaming a fantasy where a woman might actually consider his wallowing demeaner to be attractive and approach him. He would spend hours playing with his phone (sudoku was a popular choice) or pretending to write poetry in his shabby little notebook. But the real reason why he was there was to hopefully, one day, stumble upon an interaction that might lead to him finding the 'one'. He would stretch, yawn or use other theatrical gestures to justify turning his head in order to glance at a woman with the intention of making eye contact. But even if there was a moment where his gaze connected with another, Je...

It feels ironic to stare at a digital page and wonder what on earth to write, when the blog post title 'why writers write' may suggest that I know what I am doing.  The truth is, I have no plan. No heroic analogy or intellectual reasoning.  On the rare occasion that I may strike gold due to a misplaced anecdote or whimsical tale, the fact remains that  there was never a structure to this in the first place. This also reflects my life; no plan, no structure.  I write with emotion, not logic or guidelines. I bless my cotton socks that I was relatively auspicious in my English language and literature classes, upon the hundreds of books I must have read growing up. And so, the idea of writing my own book felt as natural as following the page with my finger.  The logic comes from experience. I feel that, although I didn't study a degree in creative writing, my understanding of sentence and paragraph structure is pretty sound. I have almost certainly written some terr...