I love you.
PS. I really mean it.
PPS. If you’re reading this and confused, there could be several reasons.
First of all, you could be perpetually in a state of confusion, trying to eat your keyboard, and licking plug sockets. If that is the case you have my sympathies. But the love letter wasn’t intended for you.
Or it could be that you’re not a writer and wondering to whom I’m sending a love letter. If that’s the case, then this love letter wasn’t meant for you. I mean, I like you as a reader: but I don’t love you as a writer. Let’s just be friends.
If you’re a writer and you’re reading this: I love you.
I simply love writers. I love people who put words down on paper and make other people (readers, they’re sometimes called) marvel at the words, images and ideas they have created. I love the imagination that goes into your literary creativity. I love your linguistic skills.
And my love extends to all writers. Good. Bad. Dead. Successful. Fiction writers. Non-fiction writers. All writers.
Good writers are easy to love. And they’re easy to find too. Seven days a week you’ll find one writing here at the Grip. Maybe more than one if you check out the comments boxes below.
Dead writers are also easy to appreciate. Shakespeare is dead and almost everyone raves about him and his writing. Wordsworth, Chaucer and Coleridge: Dead and Good. Dead Good.
Successful writers can tickle my jealous bone. (That’s not meant to be a crude dismissal of them. I’m not saying, ‘all you successful writers can tickle my jealous bone’ as though it’s some sort of euphemism for ‘kiss my arse’ or ‘suck my pencil.’ I genuinely mean that they inspire jealousy). But you have to admire the fact that successful writers are getting writing to a wider community.
Admittedly, it’s kind of hard to love the bad ones. I’ve written a handful of book reviews recently where I’ve trashed poorly written titles. With the last few titles I’ve been asked to review I’ve been sorely tempted to include phrases like the beautiful put-down, ‘I have read this book and much like it’ or, even more pithy, ‘I have received your book and shall waste no time reading it.’
But that absence of talent doesn’t stop me from loving the writer who created those titles. The effort of industry and imagination is worthy of love. It’s just a shame that the execution of the effort became somewhat mangled.
I love fiction writers for creating fantasy worlds that allow my imagination to follow a pre-planned journey into the unknown. And I love non-fiction writers, such as the brilliant Strunk & White who famously advised ‘omit needless words.’
And, it’s because of that final piece of advice that I’ve kept my love letter deliberately short this week. But, just to make sure you didn’t miss the message, I’ll say it again:
I love you.
And I really mean it.