Some of the recent articles I’ve read really scare me.
Plagiarism: Seeds of Hope Response
Every book I’ve written — both published and unpublished — I’ve sent to the copyright office, all because of paranoia. Or maybe it’s not paranoia; people see, they take, and they claim as their own. I think to myself: What about having a conscience?
But plagiarism happens. It’s sad, but it’s reality. And it’s nothing that would stop what’s always been at the core of me: a writer/storyteller.
So I write.
I write because I don’t say a lot, but I have a lot to say.
I write, because someone out there, lost his/her voice, and will know, that they are not all alone.
I write, because no matter how still I may appear, there is a fluttering deep down — reverberating — sending waves through my body to my fingertips.
I write, because when I write, I defy time, gravity, thieves, lawlessness .. and the chains of insecurity.
I write, because when I write, I travel to the very cracks I’ve slipped through, and there, I am found.