Being a writer is a delightful job, isn’t it? You get to write every single thing that you want to write. From old school fables to modern day fantasy, writing has evolved, extraordinarily. The readers along with the literature have grown remarkably well. From the masterly heroic Beowulf, whose author is yet unknown to the Chaucer of The Canterbury Tales; the tales were confined to some heroic tasks or extreme voyages. Then our very own Spencer added some fantastic magic in the increasing pool of stories. A Fairy Queen (auto-spelled) was soon followed by the greatest of the greats English has ever seen. It was the time of none other than William Shakespeare. Thirty Seven Dramas, One Fifty Four Sonnets and Two Narrative Poems one above another swarmed the literature within those thirty years of his career.
For me, my cat eyes couldn’t see farther than Shakespeare, because no one person has drawn so many people’s attention like he had. Though, I peeked past him and saw Milton, Dryden, Scott, Swift, Pope, Austen, Tennyson, Wordsworth, Dickens, Hardy, Shelley, Keats, Gray, Yeats, Joyce, Wilde, Conan Doyle Jr., Shaw, Wolfe, Faulkner, Salinger, Morrison, Angelou, and many more. I have skipped over a huge list of great artists that have delighted the mankind for hundreds of years and are still doing it.
I feel myself blessed to be a part of such greatness. I cannot imagine myself without their written and lived stories. After this brief English class (chuckles), I feel you guys accept me as a bragger of old and dead people; I get it, but to me they can’t be more alive.
Anyway, in farewell, I bid myself good luck through the publishing. Hope it gets accepted. So…, I’ll be seeing you. Adieu.
This is Amir Flame.