After over a year of planning the plots and ladders of The History of Ruth (H.o.R.) as an anthology, it has come to my attention that it needs expansion into a novel to do it justice. The idea for this particular story has been floating around my mind since 1999 when I was walking through the quad at U.M.B.C. in Baltimore, Maryland. That was when Ruth made herself known to me, and she’s been a naggy little bitch in the back of my psyche for decades now. Seems like a lifetime ago, and, in a way, it was. Back then, I was a different person, unable to articulate all of these things going through my head in a way that would make sense to anyone else. Unable or unwilling to share due to countless excuses. In those subsequent years, the story has been built and broken down more times than I can count. 

Back then, I thought that there needed to be a special alignment of time, space and energy that would propel this (awesome!) idea onto paper like some magical cosmic vomit in a series of epiphanies. After all, if it was not an interesting concept, it would not have haunted me all these years. As you can see from my lack of publication (except this blog space and my weirdo short fiction), that alchemy has not occurred yet. Instead, I was left molding a marble statue all this time, chipping away at it with a teensy chisel as time permits. 

*insert hand motions of tapping a chisel and a chink-chink-chink sound effect* 

That is the reality of writing–not the magic cosmic spew. Sure, some writers get struck by lightning and churn out a draft, then polish it and dispense for mass consumption with (what seems like) little effort. But, the reality is that, to master something, one needs to practice, practice, practice. Yup, bo-ring. Nose to the grindstone and butt in chair, day after day will win the prize. What is the saying? Ten thousand hours to mastery? Wonder where I am in that. By giving up the illusion that I am special freed me to write more and better and to be able to share it with others. Sure, I am still self conscious about it. But I am no longer scared that it isn’t perfect–whatever that means. 

I am a believer that there is a greater reason for the delay. It must mean that something did not feel right. Coming up with the ideas is never the issue. The fight is getting it translated from mind to the page. If I just wrote the first thing that came to mind, which I have done a thousand times, then pushed that out in the world, then it would probably fall flat and seem ingenuine. By accepting that it will be a pain in the ass and just getting it done bit by bit, it removes the emotions and taboos I built around writing that make it seem mystic. There is still emotion around writing, but I learned to channel that into the story, instead. 

A few weeks ago, I signed up to have my writing critiqued by others that actually write. This was the first time that I have asked for formal critique of my work, except for academic writing. Before, I would just have people read the self-edited stories and get general feedback. For the upcoming critique, I took the wrap-around story for my anthology that I had been stewing for over a year (above) and pulled it, coming up with a new wrap-around story just a week before the critique. I spent the day before and the hours preceding the video call restless and nervous. What if I am a terrible writer? What if it doesn’t make sense? What if they tear me apart? Did I do wrong to nix the other wrap-around and, instead, present something that was constructed in a flash? Don’t I need massive preparation to make something of worth? All of these concerns swirled around my jittery brain. 

The critique came and went. I survived. The group had a ton of helpful comments that let me tighten up my story, making it much better. I thought afterward, “See! You always freak out, but then everything ends up okay in the long run.” The new story was actually a much better fit for the anthology and gave me a whole new angle that I did not consider before. I thought about going back to my blog/website and changing my introduction and a few posts regarding H.o.R. being the anthology wrap-around. Instead, I am leaving it to (hopefully) inspire others who want to write to show the evolution of ideas/work and that it is a process that varies between people and has no defined speed. If you want to write, then write. Because that is what makes you a writer. 

The whole process is definitely taking longer than I would like, but, honestly, I don’t want to let it go until the story and characters absolutely ring true and I get it in the best shape I can prior to professional editing and/or publishing. Besides, I decided that I will do illustrations, which is taking some time. I want this, and every project, to be something that makes me feel happy, angry, scared, energized–everything, the same way I feel when I read works by talented authors. I want to emulate that phenomenon and share it with the world. I want to laugh out loud at the funny parts and exclaim, “Wha???” aloud at the plot twists while reading a book. You know what I mean…when your partner gives you the side eye because you seem to be talking to your book at the intense parts. There is no greater joy than being in the moment, taking a person out of their reality for a while, getting sucked into a story, eliciting goosebumps, chills or nausea right at the moment at which it was intended.