I am a god of my own microcosm and I am afraid.
I have created a world. A lopsided, broken world the orbits drunkenly around its creator...Me...
Yes, I have written a first draft.
It's perfect in it's dysfunction.
And I am terrified.
I am terrified because now I have to take this broken ball of words and tear it apart, character by character, word by word, sentence by sentence, scene by scene, chapter by chapter, and rebuild it. Make it whole again. Make it less broken, more stable in its orbit. Make the words more meaningful, the tension more palpable, the characters more real. Take all the broken pieces and make them whole. Take this barren world and make it alive.
I am its god. The creator of its existence. It's terrifying.
I woke up at 4:45 this morning because today I'm planning on starting the revisions. Marking up the beautifully printing, pristine manuscript with hasty scrawls of fear driven madness. I woke up with words crashing in my head. Loud, screaming words. I let the draft sit for several days. My MC, Julius, says it's time.
I will do it because I am its creator. I am it's god, but I am also its slave. Somewhere along the line it BECAME. It isn't a figment of my imagination anymore. I breathed life into it and it lives, breathes, loves, hates, FEELS.
Now I must tame it, make it whole. Give it a soul.
It terrifies me when I think of it.
Despite the terror deep in my heart, I know I can do this. I took it from nothing and created it.
Today, I start crafting its soul so that one day it might touch others and live inside them. A memory, a history, changing them the way it has changed me. This isn't self-aggrandizing. It is the nature of stories.
One day this story will be whole and it starts today.
I am a god of my own microcosm and I am terrified/certain/confidence/fearful/excited.
My will be done.
'Till Next Time