
With so much contemplation and consternation about the color of mankind, it only makes sense that writers would feel it too. Some will begin to only see in black and white, and their writing will reflect their sight. For them I feel sadness. Why? Because in doing so, they will miss the beige, the buffs, the burnt umber, the chestnut, the chocolate, the desert sand, the eggshell, the cream, the dim gray, the ebony, the taupe, the periwinkle, the royal blues, the crescent reds, the glorious yellows and the vibrant greens that make up our world. But most of all, they will miss the richness, the brightness, the strikingly beautiful, deep, warm, and intense human beings that inhabit this world. People are so much more than the color of their skin. Society may not be able to perceive that at the moment, but we, writers, need to be able to see beyond and give honor to what we see. Life is definitely not black and white, so why write that way.