” When something can be read without effort, great effort has gone into its writing.” — Enrique Jardel Poncela
You walk into a bookstore; you peruse the shelves, the tables, the displays. You pick up a book and flip through it. Nah, not for you. You set it down and move on, impervious to the blood, sweat and tears the author–well-known or unknown–devoted to the book.
But why should you think about it? If I do my job right, you shouldn’t see the hours, days, weeks, months, years of effort, of toil and tumult and tears. You should only see (and read) a polished, smooth, quality product (mine, of course, the one you do pick up and purchase. 🙂 )
I cling to this notion, as a reminder that all the books I read and all the authors I admire didn’t have their pages magically “poof” into perfect existence.
“A good style should show no signs of effort. What is written should seem like a happy accident.” — W. Somerset Maugham
Here’s to my own contented collision.