The written word.
It seems to be something everyone has an opinion on, and rightfully they should.
We all have our favourite writers, or `’authors’ if you will. We all own a million words placed between covers that we`ve absorbed that has resonated so deeply within us that it has awoken something we never knew existed.
Inspiration rising from the ether.
Perhaps these words have released a pattern of thought that has waited decades to reach your fragile mind, and for that, you`ll always be grateful.
Perhaps a new novel has given you solace in a time you were not quite sure there was light on the other side, and for that, you`ll forever embrace the memory and the gift of hope.
Perhaps a chance meeting with a short story has given you some intangible insight, some hidden knowledge, that dared change the direction of your once certain mind.
It is these emotions that make every reader a viable and valuable critic.
Those that remain in their editorial ivory towers only carry so much significance. Their value is in their ability to dissect the awful and grammatically handicapped authors from those that offer enough substance and depth in a legible format to their work to give any reader the opportunity to create their own moment.
The author provides the words and the story, yet it`s still the reader that provides the magic.