Why I Write BY H I L DA R A Z
Since childhood I’ve written down words, often in short lines, with the emphasis on sound. Patterns. I like patterns, too. Let me show you how the process works for me. The window washer is coming soon. Piles of books on the window seat to replace on shelves. Now a book falls opens to a chapter, “Warrior Slogans,” that begins, “Three objects, three poisons, and three seeds of virtue. Atisha.” Wait. I have to write it down. Here’s a notebook and a pencil. I sit. My fingers move in time to my brain’s mutter. Something else begins. Life is chaotic on the face of it, isn’t it? The computer every day. The pandemic, the election, insurrection. The predation of earth. Sounds are everywhere. Words. Those vowels. A chant against tyranny. And now here’s the window washer. I’ve got to go. Long ago I learned to be an editor. First my high-school yearbook, then my college literary magazine, later at the Bread Loaf Writ-
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