This story and song were the results...
She’d missed her deadline. Again.
It wasn’t like a publisher as expecting this story. Perhaps no one else was. She treasured every positive comment she got regarding those characters in this particular universe. They defied genre expectations. They were unique or as close to unique as they could be. Perhaps regarding them as singular was simply arrogance on her part. There was little which was truly original. Everything came from somewhere. The notion that she’d come up with something truly unlike anything else was like a fishing lure, drawing an arrogant author fish with the tempting bait of Exceptional Art, promising her she’d be one of those special artists who’d be rewarded beyond her wildest dreams with her stories. This bait was often attached the equally tempting lure of Success.
She began to hum to herself:
“One lure offers comfort, secure life,
Another promises glory
Both tempt and tantalize
Do they offer more than story?
There’s never enough to write all you want
Keeping a roof over your head
When can you finally find your song
Must I wait until I’m dead?
There are stories I need to tell
They’re waiting for release inside
I must find a chance to set them free
Find out where my characters hide.
They’re buried deep in lost ideas
They’re sinking within pools
They’re lost off in imaginary seas
My precious story tools
When will I seek if I’m chasing deadlines?
How can I persuade them to appear?
They’re in my mind, yet out of reach
So far and yet so near.
I’ll never stop looking for time with them
No matter how pointless it seems
I’ll give voice to that special tale
Find an outlet for my dreams.”
Not all that great, the author thought, putting down her pencil. Maybe she could polish the poem up and post it on her blog. Or a submission call might appear that suited it. She would just have to wait and see.
It might not be great, but it had a lot of her heart in it.
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