The words, they come hard today. I’ve wondered about writing, about the magic of it. Anyone reading this is capable of placing words on a page. Anyone that can read, can write, but not really. I can read Faulkner, Hemingway, or King (yes I put King in there, name one other author whose prose flows as naturally), but to write like them, to create the magic with a blank page they do, not many can claim that talent.

What kind of power is that? How do they do it?

Authors cannot tell you how they do what they do. Many believe the power of an author lies in imagination, I don’t think so. I can give you an idea right now, but it would turn to drill, or be useless to all but a few with the skill to transfer idea to page.

I started a novel one time, got about forty pages in and it just dried up. This story that seemed so alive, so effervescent, it left, fizzed out. All writing is that way. Some things gel, pages write themselves for stories that gel, the others, well I can write words, but their never the right words.

You’re waiting for the idea aren’t you? Here’s the deal, I’m going to purpose a contest. I’ll supply an idea, you write a short story, send it to me, if it’s any good I’ll sell it and make some money =). Just kiddin, I’m gonna put an idea I have out there, it’s thin, not much meat on it, but books have been written with less. See what you can come up with. I purpose the stories get posted up on the net, we’ll see how everyone did.

“Filing Cabinet” – a man buys a filing cabinet at a garage sale that contains old papers, pictures, a few cassette tapes. Among the papers are diagrams for inventions, blackmail photos, incriminating documents, state secrets, etc… There is a folder called “In” if he puts a name on a piece of paper and places it in the folder a new folder will appear with the vilest sins this person has ever committed. What happens when he puts his own name in the folder? Is there a folder called out, and what happens when he puts names in it? What happens when he puts events, or future dates? Where did the cabinet come from? Why does he feel darkness congregates around the room where the cabinet is?
(Post-Publish edit -- upon reviewing this idea it seems dime story trash. I've morphed it a little into something more real, I don't know if that's a good thing. I stand by what I said before; a true writer's power doesn't lie in imagination, but in language. Skilled hands may make more of this idea than I ever could.)

That’s it. Not much there, but to the best of my knowledge it’s original. I don’t remember reading or seeing anything close to that. See what you can come up with. If a short story materializes, email me.

I haven’t been at this very long, I don’t think I have very many readers; I’m hoping that there are maybe a few. I would like to see what others can come up with.