From the Storm (and after)

Powers out, and the internet with it(i'm writing this with the precious little battery i have left inmy iPod.)so I don't know when this'll go up... But, power will probably be back on when it does...

So, if you've read much of this blog, then you probably already know about my atypical feelings towards storms. After a powerful storm, like this one which tore down trees (mostly leaving them strewn across streets) and leaving us without power, I get to thinking about things (Dangerous, I know.), about why I feel the way I do...

Even when I'm out being a wild maniac, or when I'm helping neighbors clear away wreckage from the streets during a calm, I still feel warm. Safe. Protected. Perhaps this is because I've never suffered injury, or perhaps it's because no one I know personally has been hurt, or perhaps it's because i'm young and foolish; but I think it's more than all those, true though they may be.

Storms, in all their fury and power, remind me of God's power, remind me that He is looking out for me, even when I don't realize. It makes me think about how truly blessed I really am. And it gives me energy.

Sometimes though, I stop, I remember others who may or may not be suffering in the storm, who might be in danger, who are out of my reach. For a moment, I forget God, so lost to worry and helplessness am I.

And that is a terrible place to be. Every sound of thunder, every clash between ground and sky, becomes something to fear--not for myself (never for myself), but for others, even and especially for those I don't know as well as I should. Every siren crying in the distance becomes a lucid nightmare, and I feel guilty about the joy of moments before. When that happened, it is hard to trust. Control goes out the window.

Yet even then, God did not abandon me. Somehow I became able to think rationally again, to pray. And after a moment's prayer I gained the strength to once more leave my fears and worries in his hands. And that is a good place to be, one I never want to leave.

Wherever you are, and whoever you are, I pray that you stay safe against whatever chaos or uncertainty you might be facing; and I pray that you, too, might know the comfort and joy that I'm feeling now.

Go mbeannaí Dia duit,

M. S.

Update: Yes, it's roughly ten o'clock the night after the storm, and power is back. Yippee skippee! Alleluia! And everyone who still has no power, hold in there. I'm praying for you, and the women and men of the power company are surely working their hardest.

P.S. Please excuse all the tense shifting and clunky prose. It's not my best work, but I don't think I'm going to edit this post. Just cause. Also, I'm very thankful I live in a neighborhood where people go out and help each other the same night the storm came through. I talked to people I don't think I've ever talked to before, it was very cool. So I'm very thankful. I'm just thankful for everything right now.

Whooppee! skibberoo! Life is good! (Darkness really is only for light to shine in.)

And now I'm just drawling on. Sorry. Goodnight all. :)  ... ... ... (I just used an emoticon? Ah, must be the caffeine kicking in... Caffeine, another thing I'm thankful for...

Seriously, goodnight. I mean it this time. I think. Night night!

Mickel out.

Writing — I Can't Move On

Recently I've experienced doubt as to whether or not I'll ever be a REAL writer. I've never been published, I've hardly even finished anything. I feel that if I pursue this dream, then the thought police will show up in their dark glasses, dark expressions, and all black SUV's.

I fear I'll never make it… But I still can't give up. This is something I have to do, because it's part of me.

And here's something else that's part of me.

"The Book of Aelus" was my first major writing project. I spent years on it (5ish?), while writing other things, but this story I was determined to finish. And finish it I did, finally, late last year. With around 110,000 words, much of it rewritten or scrapped completely. Then I sat back, looked at what I had created, and was disappointed. It was a mess, and my aimless re writing, I felt, had cut the heart out of it.

So I tried to move on… But it wasn't that easy. Time and again, something kept me coming back to it. The characters called to me, the story cried out to become something beautiful.

I planned and attempted a major revision this past February, but lost steam. This was due to 2 things: 1,  unreasonable goals that I couldn't possible keep (once you fail a goal, it makes it easier to fail the ones after it.); and 2, I'd lost the heart of the story, I'd forgotten what it was, what I'd intended it to be.

I decided the story was dead. I forced my bloody, guilt ridden hands away, and tossed it in a file to collect dust. I moved on to other things, other projects. I wrote a couple flash pieces, a short story, and got several thousand words done on several different projects.

But today something changed again. Another reversal. The call back to "The Hot Gates" and her crew has again reached my ears. I know what I'm getting into is a long and dark tunnel (one that will probably be filled with pain), but that will not keep me from searching for the light.

I want this story to be told. I want it to be something I can point to, to say: "you should read this." Because this story was more than a learning experience, it is a part of me—and I don't want it to die.

That's not to say that I'll abandon my other projects in the process—I don't have the kind of one track mind required for that. Nor will I try to rush through it like it did in my previous attempts. I'm taking it slow, knowing that it's more important to do something write than to do something fast. Ideally one does the job both fast and right; but hey, I'm still learning.

Maybe I'm just crazy, maybe I'm wasting my time. But I've tried to move on, an that's something I just can't do. I truly do think this tale is worth the telling. I'll never give up hope.

Am I deluded? Is this just story just holding me back? Perhaps, but that is a risk I'm willing to take. You have to take risks for what you love, don't you?

Go mbeannaí Dia duit,
M. S.