Whatever happens…towards the end…keep writing


Days seem to drift by lazily lately. Every day seems like the one before. I wait for my chance to write, to put things in front of the public that I wrote. That day is approaching fast, I know there are still things I need to do, still writing, rewriting and revising. I am aware of where this started and why.

When I was a teenager there was a lot of anger in me. At my parents (mostly my dad)  and at the girl I was dating. I tended to write my feelings on the page. These pages came to light the other day when I was looking for something else. I sat on the floor of the closet I share with my wife and looked through my teenage anger. These pages were the beginning of my journey and lead to where I am now. In the past fifteen months I have written one novel, six short stories and I am 20k into finishing another novel. The journey I speak of is one that only recently came to my attention while reading “Speak” .

I could relate to the MC, anyone who felt like an outcast for one reason or another could understand it. I saw myself in the MC. The things I did, the way I felt. She had her tree and art, I have my words, pages and dark creatures. It is through them I see myself and only through them will I find  who I am. I have other stories that are not dark, they sit gathering dust while I fly through the trees and the cities with my creatures. I write dark and about the dark because it is where I feel most comfortable. I hide in my corner, staying away from the searchlights. Avoiding people, not talking to others. I sit at my desk at night, my life in my hands. My journey is unfinished, knowing it never will be. I stare at the blank page, waiting for them to speak, waiting for my soul to breathe life into what I want.

I know that whatever I do I must write. I cannot stop, it is too important. I give life to creatures every day on the page. Making them breath with the stroke of the pen or the press of a key. I am a writer that is who I am. That is who I have always been. I know I will keep writing and rewriting until the story is where I want it to be. Each morning I look in the mirror and say “What will we create today” as long as I keep saying that I will be happy.

Bri

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