Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Inspiration/Block (for the writer) (05/20/10)
By dub W
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Perhaps I should have quit on the spot; become a businessperson or scientist. But, alas a third grade teacher had spoiled me when she said I might as well write, as I had little other hope for the future.
All of my tutorage adds up to very little. My inspiration, for what it’s worth is largely from what I read in the formative years. For example: at one point in my life I thought I wanted to sit at the edge of a pond and write inane poetry. I researched Thurber and discovered his inspiration came more out of political frustration than God given talent.
I spent years thinking I lived with Shakespeare, but in reality I read what I enjoyed, avoided the tragedies, and fell out of love with the bard sometime in “Hamlet.”
Hanging with the Raven was fun, but the macabre was not conducive to winning the type of friends who I wanted to be around. Inspiration then was not something I wanted to share.
Getting a grip on reality was always difficult for me. I devoured Tennessee Williams and Albee, and even spent a period studying Whitman. I guess cause I am not crazy or gay my interest in the popular beat writers waned.
Biblical inspiration has always been a solid resource. Like any Christian I recognize that human inspiration started with Adam and resulted in apple pie. I suppose ice cream came later. But, I digress.
God inspires all Christians. Not necessarily all writers. And, for that matter, not all Christian writers appear to be God inspired.
Creative Writing Class (lab) – 1966. “Okay class. Describe God.”
I was seat 25; on the back row. We had five minutes to write a lead sentence and other notes. I looked at my paper, “God is … .” Well, at 19 years of age I was not particularly biblically literate. To my right an obviously inspired student was filling his second page.
The professor slammed his book on the table and asked, “Who wrote anything?”
MaryLee Nelson, a cute redhead, had earlier slipped me a note declaring her love for me. The professor walked back to my desk and picked up the scribbled note. “Exactly right,” he gleefully announced. “Nothing can be defined about God except for “Love.”
The student next to me covered his notes.
I had not the knowledge or the internal fortitude to comment or argue. Luckily he did not read the note, just glanced at the drawn heart.
As I consider it now, the heart was probably correct. God is indeed love. God is indeed inspiration. Need I look anywhere else?
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