The Writer

Click clack click went the keyboard of the typewriter,
The writer put his thoughts onto paper.
Editing his work, he made use of a pen with a neon-colored highlighter,
Knowing he shall resume to correct the errors later.

Proofing, editing, and proofing some more,
For the perfectionist writer, proofing galore.

Months had elapsed, and much editing had been done by the wordsmith.
Now, he thought, he had a finished manuscript.
Alas, he still found typos, and he continued revising forthwith.
Editing is a slow job that occurs drip by metaphoric drip.

Months more have transpired and, the writer had finally satisfied his eye.
His work had been completed-no more editing for this writing guy.

To publish his work was the writer's goal,
And hard did he work at this literary endeavor;
He wrote so ardently and, onto paper, poured out his soul.
He invested much of effort, vowing to give up never.

The writer knew he could pen and publish his work, with aims to sell;
He knew his writing could earn him money quite well.

He sent off his work to a publishing house,
His hopes were held high.
But the rejection letter came, and his elated mood suffered a douse;
At least he gave the chance of publication with the first company a try.

"I'll send out more copies of my work to other editors!" thought the writer.
Suddenly, his hopes were beginning to seem all the brighter.

However, months passed, and his publishing dreams did not come to be;
The writer thought publication of his work could not happen.
Would his book sit behind a bookstore window through which buyers see?
Indeed, the writer's attitude woefully did dampen.

Though, time did heal the writer's wounded spirit, and he felt renewed.
He decided to self-publish, and circumvent any publisher's rejecting mood.

The writer's dreams of publication would once again see the light of day.
The writer hired a local typesetter, book printer, and binder.
The fees were a little high, but the writer was willing to pay,
For the manuscript was now a genuine book, his prospects looked kinder.

The writer rejoiced;
His emotions enjoyed a hoist.