back at it

its been two months since i've been able to sit down and write. between the 3 day novel contest wiping my brain clean, abruptly quitting my job, filing a bullying and harassment claim and the unexpected ending of a romantic relationship it has been a difficult and upheaving two months.

BUT I AM BACK

I have so many ideas in my brain and so little time, that i find myself needing to restructure my life. not sure how to make it happen, but I am going to take advantage of my financial windfall (yay quitting a job and getting OT and vackay payout!) and over the course of the next month not only will i hunker down and write daily, but at least once if not twice a week i will write for a longer duration than 30-60 minutes. perhaps at least 4 hours.

So, a story that i have been trying to write but have failed to fully produce due to my inability to outline it properly (turns out i like this outlining thing with scrivners) has finally been put into line. It never helps when you have 3 story lines that need to intersect into one cohesive story. but i may have it now.

here is an excerpt from the very first page

I walk in circles inside my mind. Wearing down a circular path, over and over, as I trek back and forth trying to find the beginning of the end. The precise moment it all began. When time for me finally stopped and I ceased to exist. To the very beginning beneath the underlying foreshadowing, that I missed despite it so blatantly being laid before me. I struggle to find the words to tell you the truth. The truth not only as I see it, but the truth I can not see.

My mind is fragmented, like a shattered mirror. My reflection broken and never ending as a single piece reflects upon another and another. I look behind me to see the monster that lies in the mirror and realize its no longer there. But over there instead. Approaching me from another direction. I take what I know and lay it out before me, trying to make sense of it all. To piece it all together. Only to gather it up and throw it away into the wind, letting the breeze scatter it near and far.

And as I watch my words, my tale, my sanity fly away gently into the night sky, I wonder. Where does one begin?

Do you start at the end and work your way back? Do you start at the front and work your way forward? But then you have to figure out where the beginning really starts and even by going backwards, further and further into the facts, you may never find the truth. Do you follow the chronological clock of time or your mind? Which one is more trustworthy and which will be true.

Do you start at the minute, the very second you realize something wrong is about to happen or do you wait until the shit hits the proverbial fan? I could start with the first moment that we met or the moment I realized I was in hell. A hell I thought I would never get out of. One filled with dim lighting, surgical tools, youtube videos and my blood.

Or I could start with the moment I was finally free.