Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Disgusted
I had to stop and look to see when I started this blog and this project. July 2005. A whole year. Without a single draft finished.
I wasted too much time and energy on doubts. On other people's opinions. What I should or should not be writing. How many flaws my characters have; my story; my premise; my writing in general.
I'm sick of it. It's MY damned dream! If I don't fight for it, who will?
I meekly stood passive and silent, letting people rip out the butterfly's wings. I believed it necessary and good so I could grow as a writer, while in reality it crippled me. I crammed my wide, flat, size 9 feet into dainty glass slippers so I could go to the ball. They laughed at me anyway and tore off my fake wings, just as the stepmother did in Ever After.
And the saddest part? I truly believed the butterfly was a fat ugly slug, and the dream was just a costume anyway.
No more. I borrowed Sis's kick-ass boots and I'm marching toward the finish line. Leading the way, the butterfly soars ahead of me on stained-glass wings that no one will ever shred again.
Isabella has taught me that some things are worth killing for. I will kill to keep the butterfly's wings safe this time. The silver sword is in my hand and I won't hesitate to use it.
Nothing's going to stop me now.
I wasted too much time and energy on doubts. On other people's opinions. What I should or should not be writing. How many flaws my characters have; my story; my premise; my writing in general.
I'm sick of it. It's MY damned dream! If I don't fight for it, who will?
I meekly stood passive and silent, letting people rip out the butterfly's wings. I believed it necessary and good so I could grow as a writer, while in reality it crippled me. I crammed my wide, flat, size 9 feet into dainty glass slippers so I could go to the ball. They laughed at me anyway and tore off my fake wings, just as the stepmother did in Ever After.
And the saddest part? I truly believed the butterfly was a fat ugly slug, and the dream was just a costume anyway.
No more. I borrowed Sis's kick-ass boots and I'm marching toward the finish line. Leading the way, the butterfly soars ahead of me on stained-glass wings that no one will ever shred again.
Isabella has taught me that some things are worth killing for. I will kill to keep the butterfly's wings safe this time. The silver sword is in my hand and I won't hesitate to use it.
Nothing's going to stop me now.
Comments:
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You can have TWO pairs of ass-kickin boots, just in case the first pair gives out before you dela out the royal ass-kickin that's deserved.
>.<
*offers every pair of boots she owns*
If you EVER need anyone to stand beside you with silver sword drawn and an extra stunner, you just whistle. I'm always within earshot, and I hear I'm pretty handy with a verbal blade.
>.<
*offers every pair of boots she owns*
If you EVER need anyone to stand beside you with silver sword drawn and an extra stunner, you just whistle. I'm always within earshot, and I hear I'm pretty handy with a verbal blade.
Sis, bless you. *hugs tight* I'm close enough to THE END that I don't think I'll need a second pair of boots. But the BACKUP I can definitely use!!! Thank you for everything.
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