Friday, May 9, 2008
After a nice stretch of warm sunshiney days (Cheese even hooked the hose up to the top of the swingset so it would drench him as he would swing), we are on our second day of rain, but tis good for the flowers so I don't mind. I even ran out earlier and tucked a few seeds into the ground, I am never very good about remembering to keep seeds moist in the beginning so they can germinate and grow, so I thought as it is raining, and supposed to continue raining off and on for several days, I should let God water them. God's watering I notice is much more thorough than mine.
I have two empty binders staring at me from across the room. I have set them there for that purpose on purpose. My mom told me earlier this week that she, and my cousin, and grandmother have all volunteered to read my story. Either the whole rough draft (whenever I manage to be done), or chapter by chapter (which is a bit scarier as I could start doing that um....right now, tightening up each section then sending it out). I know it isn't often considered ideal to have family members reading one's attempts at writing, but I do need feed-back and they did (under what circumstance of talking to my mom, I do not know) offer. The idea of actually having readers/someone read the story is really exciting, and really really terrifying. It is also motivating, to get it done (they are waiting, expecting me to hand it to them any minute) and to get it done well enough to not feel a huge barrage of horrible emotions at the thought of someone peering at the pages. The binders? Well there should be a third, they are what the draft will go into, before I hand it out to them. They are propped up to call to me, finish, fill me, finish, fill me.
It is intimate this sort of sharing. I would be handing out a piece of me, one not usually seen (not ever seen?). I can think of no work it reminds me of that I would be able to hand it to them and say, you know it is kind of like this story, or that, so they would be prepared and look at it in that kind of light. I'll just tell them "it's a fantasy story only it isn't" and leave it at that. And I'll set down questions for them concerning the story, so as to prompt usefull feed-back.
I am hoping they will be helpful and kind (honest, but in the kindest way possible),
I am concerned they will just think it odd.
yeah, even more so than badly written, which hopefully one can learn one's way out of, work on and improve, if they think me, the story, incredibly weird, and the whole thing just oddball chaos, then...oh
(crazy crazy crazy, but it is music to me)
(sentimental saccharine, my tongue tastes ripe sweet fruit)
And then too death is there, and I worry that might hurt them. (knowing as I do, their loss)
I don't want to hurt them
Well thinking about writing it isn't the same as writing it, off I go.
If someone should happen by and read this,
what do you think-
give them the full rough draft
chapter by chapter?
Or do you think the whole enterprise too risky, and I best hide under a rock instead?