stellabella’s Profile

I have enough poetry, prose, lyrics or whatever one might like to call them for a book. I have them collected and ready to go. I think I will self publish and as the quasi introduction to my book below explains, I began writing when I was just a little kid. I was too young to think of writing as a means to make money. And, I only mention money because I could really use a little luck in the green department and the laws of attraction say you should write down what it is you hope for and the universe will deliver.

As for the work itself it is not really about the completed piece for me. I fell in love with words. I can remember the first time I realized that a word can have multiple definitions. Learning a new word and rolling it around in my mouth was pure joy. The same with a library and all the vaulted secrets they contain. I read the dictionary first before graduating to the thesaurus. But the most influential book for me is what I would term ‘the little book that could’ "The Elements of Style" by William Strunk, Jr., Of course, I fail miserably when it comes to punctuation but I always find myself going over my writing and eliminating the fat so to speak or at least I try. I'm sure William Strunk would be proud.

INTRODUCTION:(warning some Redundancy)

My work and my life are and will continue to be a work in progress. I was first introduced to literature as a little girl of 6 or 7 years old, right around the same time my mother died. Thanks in part to a wonderful English teacher. I cannot remember her name but I can still see her face. She was a beautiful blonde with a cherry red birthmark down her face which she wore proudly and always dressed very lovely yet professionally. She had the kind of ocean blue eyes that recognized and reflected back my pain to me, in a patient way so words were not needed. Her eyes held a hidden strength that was devoid of pity. She knew instinctively that books and the words they held within would become tools for survival for me and she was correct. Perhaps, they had served the same purpose for her and became a commonality between us so that we were woman and child equals.

From then until now words became an escape for me. I read and still read voraciously and with a dictionary usually nearby. What fun it is to come across a word I do not yet know, look it up, say it out-loud, feel it rolling off my tongue, experimenting with different pronunciations. Finding a thesaurus was an equally joyous occasion. Not only is there an endless amount of words but some words could have more than one meaning and adding to that some words while spelled and pronounced the same had different interpretations.

Not long after discovering books and words I learned that words and music could be combined adding a delicious element to words. The rise and fall of the rhythmic cadence accentuated by sweet melody. Consonants held, verbs chopped, repetitive phrasing realizing the one constant was rhythm. Rhythm to me is what separates writers. We all march to the beat of our very own distinctive drummer. I learned to write this way, the silent beat of an internal metronome. The words beat their way out of me. The count is never exactly precise.

I hope you can hear the beat; it is the beating of my heart.

Love,
StellaBella