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It is the challenge of every writer to confront the page,to meet Hemingway's "great white bull". What do you see or hear when you begin to write? Is your page as menacing as Hemingway's white bull? Or perhaps a bit like mine, just an uptight bore.
Once Upon A Page
A pen wrote feverishly,
scribbles and strokes,
dots of “i”s like land mines.
"Stop!” cried the page,
“You can’t write that! STOP!”
Its lines cried once more
staggering the pen
mid-sentence, mid-word, mid-letter.
“What is it that you object to -
the sentence, the simile, the syntax?”
“The word,” hissed the page.
“The word?” The pen looked back. “Which word?”
“Any word,” scowled the page, “would suffice to offend.”
Offend? That’s good, thought the pen mischievously
and it continued to write again.
“Stop! Stop!” screamed the page once more.
"Have you no conscience?”
“On the contrary,” sighed the pen, “I have you."
By Nancy Sima
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