Leap of Faith

We are full of stories.

Each of us experience life in different measures of reality and surreality, moments where we are present, moments where we are distant.  Sometimes we want to be exactly where we are, either in the circumstances we are in or in circumstances we create.  Even with our feet firmly on the ground, we let our heads wander in the clouds. We shoot for the moon and gather the stars.

We have those cherished epiphanies on our own, but what makes us grow is that phenomenon of the shared experience.  What each of us take out of it may be vastly different, but only when we combine passion with commonality are we able to gain new perspective.  Even the lone wolves of the world find some comfort among the packs.

There's a Backstreet Boys song called Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely that has one line in particular that always makes my skin tingle.  "Eyes of stone observe the trends."  The song is largely about the pain of loss, but this line always struck me as fairly optimistic.  There's something freeing about the concept of separating yourself from the need for acceptance, to observe something dispassionately in order to get in touch with what something really means to you.  In the context of the song, grief leaves you no choice.  You don't want the change, but it's forced on you.  You can't push forward when you're kicking at the missing pieces.

I could share so much of my art with people with a sort of pride and detachment, but writing was something I had struggled to bring life to.  In the rare instances I chose to share it, there would be these odd flickers of connection, not just because someone would take the time to share the affect it had on them, but because it sparked the need to keep going.  I would talk to my mom about writing all the time.  About how determined I was to publish even though I was equally scared of baring my worlds for scrutiny.

I didn't see it as fulfilling a trend or being a best seller.  I did look at successful writers though and the most passionate among them all had something in common: they published it when you liked it or not.  They risked reputation and assumption and ripped off the bandages.  I have no doubt that if self-publishing had been as simple as it were today, authors like Stephen King would have filled the market with every errant thought, popular or no.  He does it now, with little regard for critics.  Good or bad, the writers that have something to say find any outlet they can to say it.  

No matter how much you love your work, it grows stagnant if you don't take that leap of faith.  I knew it would be a very specific sort that would even like my first series.  It's fast and vast and complicated.  It doesn't give you filler that lets you catch your breath and the pacing is erratic. I've looked at it with eyes of stone and I love it no less.  I went a completely different direction in my current novel.  There are far fewer characters, odd limitations, a smaller world and a grittier voice.  Why?  It has little to do with trends.  I challenged myself to reach beyond what I've already done.

Whatever you reach for in life, you may find comfort in repeating what works or always trying something new.  Some careers depend on a limited skill set that promises reliability.  Even mastering an art can be that way.  No matter how precisely you hone your skills, what makes you excel are often those breathtaking moments, those epiphanies unique to your experience, that release you from doing everything the same.  

I could have let grief pin me down.  Somehow it seems like an injustice to waste the faith my mom had in me by giving up that easily. Even in the haze of loss, I'm finding this slow-spreading boundless warmth, this ability to connect to people that I love that I never would have been able to experience if I continued to doubt myself.  There are more steps to take...

But I am full of stories and I'm not afraid to share them.