Has she not greater intuition, is she not more self-sacrificing, has she not greater powers of endurance, has she not greater courage? Without her, man could not be.
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I've been working on a short story for the past five months or longer; the exact span of time has since been forgotten, tucked away somewhere between the anonymity of fall and the chaotic frenzy of winter. It was my goal to be brave and post snippets of this story in this here humble blog. But then I decided, last minute, to shutter this idea away into the back of my mind after my writing was plagiarized for profit by someone else. (If you don't know this story and wish to find out more, read my January 2015 blog entries.) The Internet is truly a complex space, mixed with those who want to make a quick buck and those who want to earn an honest dollar.
I fall into the latter category, if you had any question about it.
Interestingly enough, the holding off on publishing my story here allowed for me to revisit and further develop this writing, delve into specific areas that left gaps in the narrative, and fiercely work on a consistent tone and voice that was inconsistent in the previous draft. I deleted entire paragraphs, even the ones I loved writing and did not want to part with; danced around vulnerability and depth of emotion before realizing that those very elements were integral parts that were missing in the story; added vulnerability and emotional depth to the tune of heartbreaking melancholy meets hopeful reality. A difficult task, indeed, when all around you buds are blossoming and the sun is shining.
I've always been a consistent editor; I edit until I am out of breath. Writing comes intuitively to me. Occasionally, imperfections and fleeting moments of critical self-assessment surface, for I am only human, but I continue onward. I edit until my eyes cross; work and work until the words break my heart in the most poetic way possible. A literary turn of phrase; a burning image that stays in one's mind for days on end; a single word in a sentence that holds such a powerful meaning that it is merely reflex to pause for a moment on its significance. Of course I am talking here about the literary greats, but I am still learning, working my way through it all.
My yet-to-be-posted story is a shining example of this full-fledged determination to fight for not only my words, but also for my strength of character, and it feels right. I will post the story in snippets here--but only when it feels right to do so.