I have been working on a short story for the last few months and it has really taken a tole on me. Emotionally it’s been draining as I push myself as a writer to give a sense of the truth. But sometimes the truth of a story is painful and even more so when faced with admitting it to oneself.
So I had to step back from this project to recharge and to come to terms with my own reality as a women, as a writer, as someone still dealing with the pain and fear of a some what scary experience.
But like a lot of writers, all of life’s experiences good and bad alike are fuel for the muse. So I give my experiences in the form of fiction, blended with the truth and creative licence. My work my never be published, but I don’t writer just to some day make it as a writer. I do it for myself. I do it because if I don’t the characters would drive me mad for want of their stories told.
So I will keep working on my short story even though it has been difficult. And editing will be just as difficult. Can’t wait to do the re-write. Fuck this shit is hard!
I know I’m not the only one who does this but you know when you have this like boundary around you when you’re sitting at a table or a desk that only you are allowed to be in
And then someone or something that isn’t yours
gets in that space
and you just
Holy fuck finally someone who understands