Ruth StanleyWriting is in my blood. It is a compulsion, a release, and sometimes a bit of a buzz. I remember my father drilling me on how to write clearly. An old-style journalist, he maintained that you don't have to use the biggest word you can find to get you point across. "Keep it simple," he said. "When you have the rights words you will know. They kind of sing to you." My husband has gotten used to seeing me chewing on something and being unable to rest until I have written it down. He will wander off with a slight smile on his face, thinking, "There she goes again." After thirty years of administrative writing, I knew that I had lost my descriptive button. I could map out a decision, but I no longer made people feel. I needed to challenge myself. I pulled out my forgotten adjectives to paint a fuller picture and to invite my audience to see, hear, and feel my stories. Like the old war correspondents, I wanted to really pull people in like they were almost there. Only time will tell if I have reached my goal. For the moment, I am content to feel the rhythm of the words and to follow their logic. Read More Read Less