I am an Insignificant Detail
It takes a lot of self-pity to make a great writer. Brought on by depression, it is in the moments of our self-loathing that we find fantastic ideas. Fantastic in the sense that we are insignificant and there are far more powerful forces pushing forward when all we want is to fall back. She becomes the damsel in distress and suddenly, more able than she was led to believe, she escapes the wretched tower. From then on her life is one roller coaster after another but never will she take it for granted. After conquering the numbness of the dark walls of her prison she could see that the feelings, even if in turmoil, are a blessing. Meanwhile, a handsome Raven in a distant land is crippled by his heavy heart. His melancholy spread to every feather, and almost like water on butterfly wings, he became too heavy to fly. Little did the Raven know that the damsel would be the one to caress the teardrops out of his feathers enabling him to soar the deep sky.
And then the story continues, but who really wants to hear the end? How the Raven could not be tamed and the damsel, visited often by her own demons, could no longer take her own scheming voice. Hey, I never said they were pleasant writers.
My heart is aching to write a story. One with a beginning, a middle, and an end. My over bearing laziness is keeping me from doing it. Will I ever be self-disciplined enough to finish what I start? I’m leaning towards no.
But even my biggest fans would probably avoid my book.
And then the story continues, but who really wants to hear the end? How the Raven could not be tamed and the damsel, visited often by her own demons, could no longer take her own scheming voice. Hey, I never said they were pleasant writers.
My heart is aching to write a story. One with a beginning, a middle, and an end. My over bearing laziness is keeping me from doing it. Will I ever be self-disciplined enough to finish what I start? I’m leaning towards no.
But even my biggest fans would probably avoid my book.