miraclejazz:

an unwritten book
OK, so I guess that everyone has a book that they have hidden in thier mind just waiting to be written. I try to suppress this book as much as possible. I know that once I get started on it, it will be like a river rushing from my brain. It will overflow and gobble up all my time and energy. I will obsess about it, live and die for it. And then when it is finished, I will finally feel cleansed, cathardically free of it.

But, and this is the hard part....what if it is not well done? What if it is a horrible book? I mean, what if I lack the imagination and the gift to turn peoples mind to my ideas? Ah god...that is terrifying.

So I won't go too much into what this book would be if I ever write it. I am so afraid of that juggernaut that I only dare crack the door of inspiration. But I do know a few things about it.

It will be written in the first person for sure. I like to make up histories of myself. I love to don my imagination and carve a new identity for me. And so it would be written from my perspective. Using.."I" and "Me".

Another blatent proof of my narcassism.

And it would probably start with....My mother....

At least, that is how the first idea would start. I would start where all beings start...with thier parents. And my imaginary mother would be lovely and tortured of course, as all mothers in great books are. She would be so human...with soft scented fingers. The slope of her neck would fascinate me..and my bitter childhood tears would flow over it like salty rivers. She would be depressed and lonely...and yet the light of my life.

And of course, I would write into my story some great man...a beautiful man that may make us hate him by the end of the tale. And I would ache for him and open the world wide with possiblities for him. I would unshutter his eyes with my simple personality, and he would see the world in all of its ancient hideous glory.

Oh it will be a great story!

And I am so afraid to tell it.