LI WEEKLY EDITORIAL
On writers Craft and Art
A Treasure Trove of Incantation
“We live and breathe words. It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them. Reading the writers’ words, what they wrote, how they were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way they saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt–I felt the way they thought, hoped, felt, dreamt.”
Says Cassandra Clare in one of her novels Clockwork Prince in the Infernal Devices trilogy.
But I wonder, do writers always feel lost or lonely? Is that composing a room of artwork really needs and looks for?
As a writer and poet, I feel in a way, we illustrate an alchemical elixir through each piece of our soul and seek what moves us. There are the days when a crowded coffee shop feels like a home, other times it’s the unaccompanied street in the starlit night where the moon guides us to the same. Writing is always beyond our soul, and we let it absorb us like an effortless intake of breath but at the same time, it seems like treading on this precarious path where you don’t know whether your writings will speak to someone or will it be seen as beautiful as from your perspective.
From the nuts and bolts of imbuing fragments of the art of everyday world into amusing scribbles of mindfulness, we always try to seek solace to dwell into, yet it's the stories that find us. The fact that what we bring on a blank page lies so much in what we’ve lived or born with, in the sense of what we’ve been keeping hidden inside, just like that moon-keeping a part of him always hidden away from us, till our artistic headspace finds a place of comfort to let it all out.
Our stories are stuck dead on the page unless we weave it with our threads of linguistic colors, to paint that musing of our sense, of being lost, in an abode of stories we live and the metaphors we are. For now, my words speak in silence but the story keeps growing with the melancholic emptiness that lingers within.
But I still wonder, do all sad people write, or if it’s the sadness that keeps the fire warm and let the words bubble up?
So with this presenting to you stories of our writers for the Friday edition:
I walk through the future holding your hand by Gabriela Marie Milton (Poem)
Nymph by Veronica Georgieva (Poem)
Use It or Lose It by Anish Ramjee (Fiction)
If you would like to contribute, read the submission guidelines here:
Do check the website and give a read to the latest edition of “Hiraeth Anthology Series”:
That’s all for now!
Keep spilling the ink, let the words seek your escape, and keep sending us more of your beautiful pieces. Do follow us on social media to stay updated and keep supporting us!
Happy Scribbling,
Sneha Mankar
Editor, Literary Impulse
Editorial — EIC Literary Impulse, Somsubhra, Priyanka, Bradley, Erica, Elisabeth
