Don't mind me if I work my way through a few personal thoughts on my writing.
I am sure that readers of my work on this site, and my two recent books, frequently ask themselves "where in the world does some of this stuff come from?" I have been known to ask that question myself.
Truth be known, many times I am my own amanuensis, never writing more than I myself am. Sometimes I even go so far as to expose myself in ways that may be questionable. My underlying precept, however, is to look into my own heart and write. Be true. Fearless. Loyal to the promptings of my own soul. I like also to tell other people's stories with as much feeling and humanness as possible, placing myself into my subjects' shoes as I write.
If I insert personal purpose, spirit and a degree of inspiration into my stories, I hope that a certain indefinable something flows from the lines enabling the reader to likewise feel those same inspirations. I would also hope that what's written between the lines is many times more than what's written in them.
Because I dash off many of my Wrights Lane postings on a whim late at night, I know that they are not always the epitome of literary excellence. My hope is only that I occasionally reach the hearts of readers, giving them something of value and enrichment, even dare I suggest, entertainment.
We derive satisfaction in many different ways. My satisfaction is giving in to the impulse to share my feelings by means of the written word on the outside chance that someone else may relate.
Strangely enough, much of what I write I could never come close to articulating orally. I'm kind of funny that way!