Chapter : So This is a Story
This is a Story alright. Soon enough it will be dusting dying in a vintage, second hand bookstore just crumbling apart into pieces back to Earth where the tree emerged before it was paper lain in ink to write words of a broken mind and broken economic pocket.
Till then what would it be? A child's favorite bed time novel? An adult's inspiration to kickstart their long lost dream? A book hated by critics? Public tomato stash? Who knows. For now it is void. Deep in the depths of the mind of who is gonna write it.
What if it's never written? It stays, in depths of mind; a story, dream, that could make the best selling novel! Or low esteem or an early death refraining it to every make an impression in any mind or perhaps the mind of the creator itself. This is a story, it is for sure of an idea of emergence. It is scrambled, a small bundle of undefinable words, gibberish, raw in every sense of brain matter. It is lurking in the back of mind, brains taking it's sweet time to conjure it up and revive most of what the original gibberish was. The idea is excited; it has been finally summoned after loosing hope for all. If it occurred to have the hope.
Now the brain is lagging it doesn't know, how to form it. It has been thinking for a while, revolving in the REM as well! Yet it resolves to the last resort it can conjure up after weeks of thinking, pondering & sometimes, just nothing "Let me write what is there in the idea" The idea slowly, sometimes horribly starts to unscramble. Young adult? A cringe fanfiction idea? Wolf books? Mafia? Intellectual or just whatever the idea got emerged or inspired from. Now you have possibilities! A lot of them, where will your story go? What will you do? How about you use the same idea for several stories? The idea is a baby; still board and willing to be molded into several different things, you are the parent. You can decide it's potential, the beautiful ways it can work up for you or what you desire of it the least.
It is a journey, a way of raising something you created. Remember to "handle it with care" , recall every single thing of sensitivity. You are giving birth to a set of words in your idea, you can call it anything you please. It should not hurt anyone; ruthlessly; it should bring all the swirling emotions in them, making sure they relate, cry, dance in joy; what your intentions are with the idea.
You may now wonder "Hey, ____ where are you going with it?" I am going nowhere. I am spouting random words and creating something out of it. Or maybe I am. Maybe this book may mean something to me. Maybe it doesn't yet it swirls you up inside; my purpose of this book might be fulfilled.
I have just started it I have a lot of words to go 50,000 they say. Can I make it? Am I here for a cash prize? I don't know. For now, this beautiful bundle of stories is an excuse to write. To conjure up my hopeless, hopeful, unscrambled and scrambled ideas to pop up. Things I want to talk about that I can't and what not. There is a lot that works up my brain at the moment.
Do you want to stay and progress with it? A writer who is clueless filled with some random ideas; you a reader looking for something. Sounds like sweet little involuntary deal, doesn't it? I do not know how many of you shall stay till the end. I just hope you can enjoy it till the very end. The end you choose with the book. Not the end I might create.
Or will you?
