Am I a Writer . . . ?

Am I a writer, some times I wonder? I don’t write much anymore. I don’t write anything good anymore. At least what any one would think is literature. My book sits gathering cobwebs, if a word document could gather such things. Though my keys are so worn and shiny beneath where my fingers usually sit. And I feel every little push of every little letter. It’s a jarring kind of thing, a whiplash kind of thigh. I used to be so fast on the keys and now I stumble along misspelling every other word and backing up and doing all over again.

I need to write something more than a one page thing, I need to finish something so big, a story might be nice and yet here I am pushing keys, filling this page with merely random thoughts, white with speckled dots, filling space.

I need to write anything and every thing. I need to feel all those miles of words that lay beneath my fingers mean something more than merely dead letter words. I need to walk the path of a writer again, to live the life of a free man again. To be again, the writer I know I am.

Writing isn’t simply thinking fast as you are able to push the keys. It’s always thinking, always searching for the truth. Questioning every thing and never, never quitting.

Now am I a writer, you be the judge? Dreams are yours to share. Dan

Dan Hanosh
Dreams are yours to Share

My Books: Just Released . . . Sleepless Nights, AuthorHouse, 2007
A continuation of The World . . . Through a poet's eyes.




The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004


My Other Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
The Moon Also Rises
The World Outside My Window
This Side Of Midnight
Dan’s Room 2 Write
My Poetry at PoemHunter

Copyright © 2007 by Dan Hanosh. All rights reserved.