Composing Prose

@postaday 327; #postaday2012.

I like to write. I can write emotionally, factually, subjectively, objectively, pragmatically, passionately. I prefer a keyboard, but thumbs on an iPhone will do in a pinch. I used to collect and use fountain pens. I still collect them but they are rarely employed. And I am never without a mechanical pencil. It’s kinda funny. I want temporary when i write. I want an eraser handy. I like to do crosswords and Sudoku with a dollar eraser pen.

A few days ago I wrote a little blog entry about my friend Mary Kaye Ritz, who died on Saturday. I’ve been asked to write a letter of recommendation for someone looking for a job. And I’ve been asked to write a few words about someone about to retire.

I love these kinds of assignments, mostly because they are from the heart. I would die a pauper if all I did was stuff like this. Or maybe I should figure out how to monetize the prose I write for love!

Over the years I have often been asked to write letters of recommendation for people looking for new jobs. In nearly every case my friends landed the job of their desire, even when I was searching for months myself!

I write truthfully, I write with feeling, and I am always willing to help someone out who needs it. When I wrote about Mary Kaye, it was a cathartic experience for me, I could have written more, but I didn’t want to hog up all the bandwidth as Mary Kaye was surrounded by many eloquent writers.

Writing for someone about to retire is a little tricky. You want to send them off, not bury them. You want to accentuate their legacy, that we’re all much stronger because of them. You want them to know how much they’ll be missed, but also insist that they have a great time when they wake up the next morning and for the rest of their life.

I’m always happiest when they write back. Except for Mary Kaye. She’s off the hook. I’ll see some of our friends tonight at her service in Kailua. It will be a celebration of a short life well lived.

When I’m writing for you or about you, it’s because I believe in you, and that I think you deserve only the best. And if you’re really lucky, I’ll compose poetry about  you. Imagine that.

Love,
Me.