Writeability
A guy who can write is hot.I don't care what he looks like. I don't care if he's a good conversationalist. I don't even care if we click.
Forget likeability, it's all about writeability, baby.
There are some blogs I read on the internet that just flabbergast me. And I always find myself surprised when I realize that the eloquent writer is a male.
For some reason, I've never thought of men as very good writers. This must go back to my experience with the opposite sex. Clearly, I haven't personally known any really talented male writers. So I figured their entire gender was made up of half-illiterate, non-creative types.
I have come to realize that this is a ridiculous assumption. First of all, look at all the great male poets. Alfred Noyes? He's a hot writer. "The Highwayman" gives me butterflies when I read it.
I find myself fantasizing about some of the male bloggers I come across on the Internet. I don't know them at all, but I know their writing. I know how it feels to be pulled in to their world for just a few minutes. To see what they see and feel what they feel. With no spelling errors to distract me.
I've always found intelligence attractive. But a good writer and storyteller is even more impressive than just a smart guy. Great writing takes not only intelligence, but creativity, a special sense of diction, a rhythm.
Only real writers pore over every single word to make sure it's the right one, or carefully consider the placement of a period or comma.
Only real writers look at everything they write as its own, self-contained piece of art--something infused with meaning that resonates with readers.
Sentence length, syllables, and even the way each word sounds all make a difference to the real writer.
I consider myself a real writer. I do all of the above, tweaking each article, blog entry and assignment to meet the standard I've set for myself.
To think that there are guys out there who do that same thing makes me weak in the knees.
I haven't yet had the pleasure of dating a writer. But I sure hope I get the chance.
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.
posted by Sleepy Girl @ 12:07 PM
4 Comments:
What you said, only vice versa :)
I always love a good writer, man or woman. I can see that you take great care in writing out your posts, which is why I happily come back for more. I know that I can always find good writing here, which is somewhat rare in the blogosphere. I totally agree with you about the rhythm part. I want words to sing on the screen almost. And they can't if they follow no rhythm.
I've never considered myself a writer, but after reading your post, maybe I probably should. When writing blog posts, I seem to do most, if not all of the things you mention - without being aware of it :)
Cinthia: You are definitely a writer. You've got the rhythm, baby. And thank you for the compliment on my blog...that makes my night!
I'm not surprised that you take great care in what you write, because to me you're one of the best writers I've found on the internet. Keep up the good work.
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