W

So, the short (long) story I’m working on is going really well. One of the things I’ve realized since I started working on little stories, is I don’t know where they will go. I have an idea when I start and then the story takes on a life of its own. I think that’s so cool and scary too. Especially when the story goes in the direction of you. As in you start writing about your experiences and discover the story is a fictional account of you. All the poetry I’ve written and the four fiction projects I’ve started all have elements of my life, the pain, the ups and downs, all the experiences, dreams, fantasies and on and on. Of course, right? But what blew me away as I wrapped up a chapter a few minutes ago, was I started to tear up a little. Not sure why, but I think I was moved by the memories of what took place and how I worded it. It was poetic and creative and careful, but it was also (the memory) something I wish I could’ve done differently. Have you ever wished you said goodbye in a different way? Brought closure to a situation. Saw those old friends instead of twenty years passing by? Thankful for Facebook and the ability to connect to old Army buddies and friends from high school. I hope the stories I write resonate with many. Across cultures and countries, moving people to the same tears I had. Yeah.