I've always felt like I would write a book, like I needed to write a book or like I had to try. I wrote stories as a kid that would keep our class past the bell and my friends would get so annoyed. I remember a teacher once commenting about how I would just write and things would come out of me without really trying. It's not so much like that anymore, I'm afraid. But I'm trying to get back there.
And I read a lot as a kid. I'm from a town of 50 people, of course I read books. I remember finishing a book one night as I laid in bed and I felt such a rush after finishing it, like my whole body was on fire with this desire to make something like I just read, to push forward this feeling that I was experiencing. And for ages, I felt like I had it in me but I never really knew what it would be.
But the last couple years of my life, when I look back on the tumultuous roller coaster that it's been, fuck me there's got to be a story in there. And then I look back at my family, at this fucking saga of a story that traces back through us - heartbreak over heartbreak filled with grief and there's so much there it knocks me out.
I know somewhere, buried underneath all of that is a story. And I'm seriously trying to write it. I'm showing up at my computer every morning and trying to hang out 1000 words, no matter how shit they are. I'm trying.
And even the practice of starting my day with that creativity starts the trajectory for the rest of my day, the creativity flows out into the afternoon hours and evening hours and suddenly I'm not lonely. How could I ever be because when I'm alone, creating, I feel like this spirit takes up the whole fucking room.
It's there. I know it is.