*A group of people sit in a circle in some cavernous community hall. A forty-something woman stands, tucking auburn hair behind one ear. She clears her throat.*
Hi, I’m Debi, and I’m a writer.
*The groups choruses, voices with varying degrees of sympathy, “Hi, Debi.” She continues.*
I’ve been a writer most of my life. It started with fanfiction, like many of us. *nods all around the group*
Then, I thought, ‘There’s no harm in this, I can write my own, original fiction. *Some grimaces of understanding, more nodding*
So I do write my own stuff. And I like it, I think it’s good. And then another idea comes to me; so I write that. And another.
*Sympathy mixed with horror now suffuses the group. One of them gets up qith quick, nervous movements to get another cup of anemic coffee.*
But I never finish anything. I try, I set goals to have a certain word count by a certain time; sometimes it works. I join groups like NaNoWriMo, *gasps from some in the bunch; one voice says quietly “I hear you.”* but it just adds more stories to the bunch I already have. So I try just writing one, letting the others alone. *She swallows with a nervous giggle.*
Then, last night, just before I woke up, I had a dream. *Wide-eyed stares greet her latest confession. The whole group knows where this is going and they listen in horror, like watching a train wreck.*
I dreamed a new storyline. A really good one, I think. I want to write it, really bad. I think this could really be the one.
*Cries of “No! Don’t listen to the dreams! Just let it go!” echo around the dank meeting hall. She nods.*
I know what you’re all thinking: ‘She can’t handle another story.’ She can’t finish what she has; why the hell does she want to write another one?’ Well, I don’t know. But I woke up this morning with that idea in my head and it won’t leave me alone. So, you know what? I’m going to let it stay. It can play with the rest of my stories, and I’ll think about it and write on it whenever I want to!
*Amid shouts of sympathy and protest, she turns and walks out the door.*
I can do this, I can write this story. And it will be good.
So there, pppbbbttt!!! 😉
Crossposted to Aimless and Wandering