If I Was a Great Writer

If I Was a Great Writer

Jeana Lovett

I would definitely be published by now

In fact, I’d be so famous, you’d stop me on the street just to say wow

My rhymes would be as smooth and polished as silver

My poems would be as beautiful as…forget it-

If I was a great writer,

I would be able to define love.

I would be able to come up with the perfect word

To express the emotions of- excitement, nervousness,

Joy, the fear of the unknown and the fear of the very known reality that nothing lasts-

All at once

I would sit down and describe every reason why life is wonderful even when life has already kicked you to the ground, and you’re not sure if you want to get back up.

I would be able to capture the sound of rain on a tin roof in a word document.

I would coral thunder into a pin made of notebooks

And I would ensnare the scent of freshly made chocolate chip cookies in-between the pages of a book

I would be able to sit down in front of my desk,

Crack my back, neck, and knuckles,

And write a novel that doesn’t have

To be edited

Over

And over

And over

To the point I get sick of it and throw the manuscript in

The trash along with everything else I write.

If I was a great writer,

I would write to make money

I would write to sell more books

To score a movie adaptation

If I was a great writer,

I would not write simply to write

The clickety-clack of keyboard buttons

And frantic backspacing wouldn’t be

The soundtrack of my dreams,

It would become background fuzz.

The pen would wither into a utensil used only for

Scribbling down grocery lists-

Not my tool to bring worlds springing to life off the pale blue lines

Of college-ruled notebook paper.

If I was a great writer,

All I would see is the perfect cliffhanger

To add to make my readers buy the next

Installment of my series

I wouldn’t spend three pages of the exposition marveling at the fire

Burning through the sky as the sun wages war

With the moon for her thrown.

I wouldn’t see how amazing simple words are

I wouldn’t have to spend my days

Knee deep in books

Trying to figure out how to convey

Anger without saying

“He was very pissed off”

If I was a great writer,

I never would have learned to appreciate the intricacies

Of scratching words on paper

I never would have considered spending hours in front of a computer screen typing

One scene

Fun

For once, I am not ashamed to say, “I’m mediocore”

Because what I do, what all writers do, is without a doubt, awesome.

I am glad I’m not a great writer.