"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."
As I read excerpts from upcoming novels here and there, as I anticipate the release of new friends' books for 2010, and smile as announcements are made for sequels I am reading, or hear the Whitney nominations, and for the first time ever, the titles are familiar or even well known, as I read how author's are grappling with their plots and letting their characters lead, cursing or finding their muse, I can't help but shiver at the current of imagination, intelligence, and creation in the air. It almost shimmers.
If I stood in a field, and raised my hands and face to the sky, reaching with my spirit, could I collect the current?
Or would I just get honked at?
Can you feel it?