Hey! Are there certain emotions that overpower others?
The range of that rainbow is the author’s paintbrush for a story’s colors and hues. A darkened shadow in deep blue giving rise to a burst of blooming yellows.
The point of no return hiding hope in a single moment.
The most striking features are at their best when they evoke strong reactions.
Unlikely proof raging through the inevitable, a whisper of wishes letting us know that somehow, against all odds, we’re still here.
We’re still fighting.
I’m still standing.
For me and my writing, I hesitate to say the specific tones will always match my intended lines.
Each of us is allowed our own interpretation.
And on an emotional level, who am I to deny what someone else feels?
Processing Answers
I was talking with my little sister recently about another round of edits. I saw some vague advice on social media, and decided to sweep through Significatorius to see what I could change.
She, rightfully, questioned my paranoia to adapt to every possible mistake.
I saw her side and I am all too familiar with the infinite loop of constant perfection. However, I found she misunderstood how I viewed the suggestion.
Rather than taking it as gospel, I saw a new lens through which I could observe my work. The added distance and new perspective helps me gauge the emotions.
I don’t see generalized advice as a simple solution solved with a quick ctrl + f. If all it took to be a respectable writer was replacing the offending letters, then no one would ever struggle to write a word.
Formulaic Processing
Relying on a clear set of variables and a functioning formula is far from how I work. I do not, however, see that structure as a crutch or an insult.
It’s just not for me.
My struggle has been more with accepting myself. I have been telling stories and captivating at least an audience of my friends for as long as those close to me have been willing to listen.
I am not someone who will raise their voice out of turn, and thus I am also known to be quiet if I’m never provided the space to fill a void.
That’s a lot of words to soften a boast, because writing is something that comes easy to me. It wasn’t until I needed to make others express themselves that I learned my experience is not universal.
While Comatose Podcast may be dead, it signaled the start of a refinement process. I needed to work week in, week out, weekend, workday, to harden my initial ease into a soft understanding.
A skill that came with hundreds of pages.
And yet I still don’t exactly feel deserving.
You all know I haven’t received any accolades.
What my time in the trenches taught me, however, is how to paint with emotions. I can wield my pen and express my heart, knowing the intention matches the colors of the images in my head.
And even then, I’m never sure it’s any good.
Built Understanding
My preached cries digging into the dirt just barely make it to the other side. Only to then often fall on deaf ears, lent or otherwise.
Firstly, mine own.
The doubt I place on the scales outweighs even the harshest critic. Any comment about my odd punctuation or difficult to digest prose sounds downright pleasing in comparison.
But I’ve already said it more than a few times.
The patchwork of hope that is who I am.
What I pray cultivates in the interim is an understanding of the words and the stories.
An honest connection, if only in the margins.
Until next time.
—JMB