When I sit back and ponder the very real possibility that I will one day soon be published, I have a feeling akin to my heart exploding, and my stomach shooting up and out of my body. It is staggering to think of the endless number of faceless people that will hold my words in their hands and read them. What will they think?
There will be people that love it, cry, laugh a little, cherish the words and pass them on (I hope). But there will also be people that will write me and demand their money back. *sigh*
Writers are special, insane, self-absorbed, emotional, passionate, and determined people. They sit down a the desk, happily open up a vein, and let the words pour out of their hearts. The imaginary people that have been wondering around in their minds come alive on the page; stories...loves...loss...pain all right there for the reader to see. Sometimes, I feel completely naked when I send my work out, knowing that someone will read it. I have the insane desire to snatch it back before they can see the first word; hands shaking...heart racing...
I sometimes wonder if God felt the same way when He finished creation. Did he look out at the beauty created by His hands and suddenly panic? Did He find revealed too much of Himself? Did He suddenly wish to make the leaves on the trees a little less green, or replace red roses with a flower not quite as sweet? Did fashioning Adam with his bare hands--breathing life into the man's lungs with air from his own lips--render bittersweet tears to his eyes? When it was finished, did He draw in a sharp breath...stunned by the sheer magnitude of the beauty He had created.
But those are silly thoughts. And by NO means do I compare the art of writing to the art of our Creator! :) But it certainly had me thinking.
Ink on paper is as beautiful to me as flowers on the mountains; God composes, why shouldn't we?