The Words Find a Way

Last night I had a moment of clarity while I was standing next to my desk at work. It was one of those rare moments where you are truly able to step back from the fiddly details that make up so much of life and see the larger picture. I had gathered a pile of older newspapers set aside for recycling to take them home for use in craft projects and other such needs, and I stood by my desk and looked at the stack of newsprint and saw not the paper and ink, but all of the words, so many countless words written by real people, real writers. Just this small heap of several months old editions of the daily news held the hard work of so many.

And then I thought of the process in my job as a librarian at a small branch library in a mid-Ohio city. We are constantly having to weed our collection of old, less circulated books in order to make way for new requests and popular titles. So many words, stressed over, heartfelt, researched, dreamt of words now stamped with “withdrawn” and sent away to sell in library sales or to use for book page crafts.

I looked at that pile of papers, and it occurred to me that there are so many ways to be a writer. So many different ways now to reach out with one’s ability to express through the written word. And some of these ways end up disposable, even the ones that bring the author the most pride and exhausting work. Some of those articles that now will rest under my craft project as I spray paint it with Krylon required the writer to go out in the middle of the night to investigate a local car crash, or to stand and watch an awards ceremony to share the information with the local public. Some of the articles they worked over might have made them cry, pull at their hair, or shout with frustration as they wrote them. Now the paper they’re written on ages while it sits in my basement.

For so long my dream, my goal, has been to publish a book. Specifically a novel. And although there is nothing wrong with having a dream, recently I’ve started to worry that the dream may never end up coming true. And instead of letting that fear light a fire under me to write, I’ve just let it sit there and fester, making me anxious that I’m not fulfilling the “legacy” I want to leave behind.

Seeing that stack of papers, for some reason, was like a bash to the head of realization. A few days ago, my friend (and an extraordinary poet) Silvatiicus Riddle posted a simple question on Facebook: What do you want to be remembered for? The asking of this question, followed by the moment standing by my desk, made me take a look at my dream of being published and ask myself “what is the bigger picture here? Why do I want to be published? What do I want to accomplish by it?” and I realized that the answer was the same as my answer to Silvatiicus’ question: “Spreading magic and wonder.”

You see, the thought of all those disposable words didn’t make me sad for some reason. Instead it made me realize that publishing a book isn’t mandatory to accomplish my goal to spread magic and wonder. With every person who reaches out to me to tell me their response to my words I wrote through Faerie Magazine/Enchanted Living, or here on my blog, or on Instagram post captions, or shared on Facebook, I am working toward that larger goal one person at a time. I still want to write stories…to share my imagination and way of seeing things with the world through a published book. But I am reminded: some of those news stories touched the heart of people, even though the words themselves are now recycled. Some of the books now cut into pieces and used for craft projects changed the lives of the people who read them. The final form, and the final destiny, of the words we write are not the goal: the way they touch the heart of those who read them is.

And so for that reason, dear reader, I thank you. Because every single one of you help me to accomplish what I feel is my purpose. Sure, being a published author would potentially reach more people, but it’s not all about the reach: it’s about the depth. If I can make two people feel to the bottom of their toes that magic is real and all around us on a daily basis, then it is a better legacy than creating ten thousand books that entertain people for a moment but never reach their hearts or change their lives for the more wondrous.