It has been a long time since I blogged, huh? There have been a handful of reasons.
For starters, I’ve had a lot of fear in writing on here again. Even now, I’m afraid of writing about those fears, worried that they might be used to destroy me. The best I can look at it is honesty, transparency, is not always well recieved by others, but I can’t live my life in fear of rejection.
Second, I haven’t been writing quite as much. I finished a few re-writes of Polarity back in the Spring and sent out the manuscript to a couple dozen agents. No bites yet, but I have recieved some encouraging rejections (apparently there is such a thing). I was focusing on that a lot while brainstorming, outlining, and exploring my next novel.
Third, I’ve been in production land. My husband and I started a Christian commuity theatre in our hometown, and it was met with resounding success and acceptance. We were in production from June until just last week (and yet the work continues!) but I’m working on getting back to my normal routine, which includes writing again.
I’m excited to be simply a writer once more for a little while.Read More »
This is a poem I have been chewing on for a while now. A long while. It’s a different side of my writing that I typically keep to myself in my journal, but this one keeps coming back to me. It is a comfort when I wonder if I made a mistake in leaving or when I need release from the hurt that lingers.
While God has given me freedom from the toxic relationship that fed this poem, I pray it might give others hope. Malice disguised as love is a cruel cage, one we often allow ourselves to stay locked in. You can free yourself from the cage, from that relationship that seeks to crush you. Finding freedom starts with simply choosing to stepping outside of the lies and see the truth: this is not what love looks like.
You’re too kind to attack
So I’m not allowed to fight back
Lest you be proven right
That I was the villain all along
Somehow my feelings matter less
And my perspective doesn’t exist
If I want this to last
If I want to stick around
It’s exclusively on your terms
With only your hurts
And I’ll take every fall
All the assumptions and unmet expectations
You’ll be the victim again while I lie here beaten
So don’t cry
Don’t cry, you say
There is no blame to share
Only my apologies if I want to hold on
To this thing we’ve built
And what is it, really?
What does it matter if the way we survive
Is with abuse and pain?
What is there to save?
Except the slave
I finished my re-write of POLARITY (previously under the working title Colors to Stars) last week and I am very thankful to see how I have grown since writing those final words. At the end of the first draft, I was very emotionally raw. I knew what I needed to say to my main character, to myself, but I wasn’t ready to accept it:
“I think if I let it go, it’s like giving her a free pass for everything.”
Jason nodded. “Maybe it is. But maybe it gives you some kind of freedom too.”
And that was the end. Maybe. Certainly not revenge, but only maybe forgiveness. When I finished that first draft, I knew what lesson I had to learn – to let go of revenge and justice as paths to find true freedom from the past. The theory had been tested in my story, and I could see the results.
After a month of space, I dove into re-writing, and while so much of the story still rings true, when I arrived that that final word, “Maybe”, it felt insufficient. But I’m still stuck on the same thing as my MC at the end.