The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. -- Vladimir Nabokov, Russian-American novelist, 1899-1977
As I stared at a blank computer screen this morning, wondering what to write my post about, I suddenly got the distinct impression that my topic today is to be about -- blank pages!
I'm remembering all the times I saw my father, writer Verne Jay, sitting at the kitchen table -- in New York City when I was a kid, in Des Moines when I was 7, in Cincinnati when I was a teenager -- with a blank sheet of paper in his Royal typewriter and a slightly faraway look in his eyes.
Dad was contemplating what scenes he was going to write, to fill up the pages of a radio or TV script that he would then submit to a series in Hollywood or New York he was trying to "hit." Competition was fierce among writers to get their scripts accepted, so Dad was really bucking the odds.
And then -- this is just one example of his successful scriptwriting endeavors -- Dad got the news that TV's Gunsmoke was going to produce and air his script Parson Comes to Town as an episode in 1966. All the long hours he had spent staring at a blank page, before the dialogue began to flow, melted away.
So when you face a blank page on a brand-new day, will you tap into your naturally high spirits and fill that canvas with color and motion and sound and EXUBERANCE?
How can one not dream while writing. It is the pen which dreams. The blank page gives the right to dream. -- Gaston Bachelard, French philosopher/poet, 1884-1962
Photo: Linda's Dad Verne Jay at his typewriter