Of course the tale of a wee man in a bird cage kept by a normal-sized sadistic owner would re-ignite the writing fires from deep within my soul. Or you know.. hook me back into what I incessantly procrastinate.
“Pain was no longer a mystery to him, and a man familiar with pain has entered a new kind of freedom.”
― Aimee Bender,
If Aimee Bender translates her warped ideas into print so seamlessly, well then I better get to trying.
I will try and prevent myself from ranting and raving about each one of her extraordinary pieces, for now.
So I then order myself a bit of guidance off of Amazon in the form of “Bird by Bird” by Anne Lamott. This warm and snarky woman gives me the push. She sets up the family reunion for my characters and myself. She strips the metaphor of its ski mask so I will not cower from it. I smile back vindictively at my self-loathing, doubt, and hopelessness when I stare down at my keyboard.
Thank you, Anne. I needed that.
So the fire under my ass has been lit. Comfort other than my loaded mac n cheese has been spoon fed to me. The Go Get Em note (“On Writing” by S.K.) has been lovingly tucked inside of my bagged lunch- thank you Mr. King.
I can do this.
I’ve been preparing for this story my whole life.
It’s okay if most times the fear of repeating what I’ve read creeps up.
It’s “normal” if every time I get to the end of a page I want to tear it up into a million pieces and make failure confetti.
I need to stop putting off sharing my twisted and dreamy tales.
Here I go