If your goal is to become a better writer, you need to practice. Here’s your writing assignment for today: visit your local library and write a short piece about what books mean to you.
As a writer, you need to develop the skill of being able to write virtually anywhere, particularly in public places. The library is a natural place to start working on these skills. It is quiet, which is helpful, but the presence of others is aligned with your goal of writing in public. They’re there to seek knowledge and the comfort of books. They’re worshipping at the same altar as you.
In today’s assignment, write a short piece on the importance of books in your life and personal experience. But go to the library to write this piece. Use the atmosphere and the presence of books, readers, and researchers to inform your writing.
Here’s my example:
The first book I remember was bound with cardboard covers and told a story about a sandbox and some children who could make it fly with the help of a magic wishbone. This book I remember, and I think of it at times. I also remember looking at the pictures, sitting close to my Grandma. It was the first of countless others, each my own magic wishbone, each helping me to think new thoughts, imagine new pictures. To soar.
Here, in the library, anything is possible. Here, in this cool and quiet place I can pause and think. Here, among the other seekers and refugees, I feel I share in a common cause.
The sign on the wall across the way says, “Ask Here.” They do not promise fulfillment and don’t follow with “and you shall receive.” But the potential, the open and hopeful opportunity is enough. To ask and have my question considered, have a course plotted, and perhaps to find a guide, is all the welcome I require.
Here among the books I am home.
You may leave your completed assignment in the comments section below.
Click here to view and complete previous writing assignments
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
My first english book that I red was blue cover, beaten, bought used Picasso biography. I do not know why old books smell the way they do, but I loved. That book was a hard to read and I remember fighting thru each chapter because I lacked knowledge in english and Picasso was such a stranger figure. The name sad it all, “Picasso, Creator and Destroyer”. I never finished, but still in my bookshelf back in Brazil. After that book, I had conquer the fear of reading in english and never stop after.
In this moment, I am in at Milano Public Library, looking around and remembering the great time spent with the blue, beaten Picasso book.
The fear is the same, new language to master, but a new world of books I never dreamed of it. Now, the beaten book is called “Il Principe” the masterpiece of Niccolò Machiavelli, and I hope it will open the Italian world of books for me as Picasso did years ago.
Thank you, Fernando. Very nice.
And good luck reading Italian!