I was walking and saw a slight indentation in the sidewalk. It was the shape of an inverted V. I stood over it with my camera and took a series of pictures. As I bent closer, I noticed a crevice at the tip. Bending closer still, I crouched over it. With my nose practically inside what, from a distance, was a finger mark in cement, I saw treasure:
Writing is like that too. On intense examination, a crack opens into a cavern where there are treasures, which change everything. Structure, story line, the hero, the villain. And you know more about the world than you started out with.
Filed under: Interesting, Literary Tagged: urban photography, Writing Life
