So, today. Yeah, today. I was in a foul mood almost all of the hours since my mind awoke from what can only be described as a disturbing dream. And so it followed that I was in foul humour all day long. Yes, America, humour with a U. Deal with it!
Anywhoooo. I spent all day doubting my writing; doubting my choice at turning aside from the mundane but financially secure world of ‘work.’ I picked up my copy of Fastian and even scoffed at it. Yes, I scoffed. I opened my notebook and started flicking through some scribbles and ideas I have gathered together over the years and scowled at the absolute idiocy of some of them. My day gradually began to get worse.
Then I came across a note I had made at the bottom of one of the pages. A nondescript thing that was neither marked or highlighted (I mark and highlight my ideas based on how good or important they may or may not be) but it caught my eye. It simply said: Writing saves souls, Reading heals them.
Now, it’s a bit twee and probably a bit cliched in some way or another and I can see why I never bothered marking it, but it gave me a tiny kick up the backside nonetheless. I was in a bad mood that would surely pass but maybe I should just read something. Anything to remind me that I’m not a crap writer. So I sifted through a few of my short stories and found one that I completely forgot to finish. It had left my memory so thoroughly that as I read it, I couldn’t remember what happened next in the tale. It was just like reading someone else’s story for the first time.
And you know what? It was GOOD! God damn it, it was fine. And just to add a cherry on top of the potential diabetes in a little paper holder, the ending came to me in a brutal flash of light that almost knocked me over. Well, I was sitting down, but let’s not get all pedantic about detail. So I sat there for a little over an hour and I finished that son of a bitch. I finished the crap out of it.
Guess what? For a while after finishing it I forgot I was ever in a bad mood at all.
Now, I’m not one for tales with hidden morals (I mean, come on, give me a story with good characters, an interesting plot twist and style that keeps me turning the pages and stuff your morals) but perhaps there is one in here.
Actually, if there is one, you tell me what it is. I just finished a kick-ass new short story and once again my ego tells me I’m worthy.