Wise and vulnerable words from a writer who understands the paradoxical truth of our creations. I'm convinced the wanting never ends (and should it?) but the shame... that's where we get tripped up. Someone(s) told us that wanting/longing was shameful even though it's the most natural thing in the world. But I believe that in transition from oral storytelling to written storytelling and now publishing, we've built these "rules" that tell us, "you can only ever want until you're given permission to have it."
I think of my great-great-great grandfather who was a storyteller and the fact that he didn't give a damn about permission. He told his stories to anyone that would listen. He felt neither shame nor longing because he just did what his heart wanted regardless of the rules. I am trying so hard to become more like him in that regard.
I'm glad that you're continuing to tell stories however you can because your words deserve to be read/heard even if someone important never gives you the permission slip to say you can.
Gosh, thank you for these words, Jade! They mean the world, and knowing I'm not alone is it's own kind of permission too. I love taking cues from our ancestors. Telling stories is a human need as much as a want!
Wait... I thought that obsessively checking email was a normal activity.
On a less cheeky note, what a gem of a refreshing piece to read, Alexa! We appreciate your courage to write, to share, and to articulate yourself so humbly. That openness is an opportunity for us to not be alone in acknowledging these wholesome desires to delight in the written word and share that gift with the world.
Waving to you from my own spot in the querying trenches! Thanks for putting all this into words. They rang too true with me. (My inbox truly hates to see me coming. 100 times a day.)
Wise and vulnerable words from a writer who understands the paradoxical truth of our creations. I'm convinced the wanting never ends (and should it?) but the shame... that's where we get tripped up. Someone(s) told us that wanting/longing was shameful even though it's the most natural thing in the world. But I believe that in transition from oral storytelling to written storytelling and now publishing, we've built these "rules" that tell us, "you can only ever want until you're given permission to have it."
I think of my great-great-great grandfather who was a storyteller and the fact that he didn't give a damn about permission. He told his stories to anyone that would listen. He felt neither shame nor longing because he just did what his heart wanted regardless of the rules. I am trying so hard to become more like him in that regard.
I'm glad that you're continuing to tell stories however you can because your words deserve to be read/heard even if someone important never gives you the permission slip to say you can.
Gosh, thank you for these words, Jade! They mean the world, and knowing I'm not alone is it's own kind of permission too. I love taking cues from our ancestors. Telling stories is a human need as much as a want!
Wait... I thought that obsessively checking email was a normal activity.
On a less cheeky note, what a gem of a refreshing piece to read, Alexa! We appreciate your courage to write, to share, and to articulate yourself so humbly. That openness is an opportunity for us to not be alone in acknowledging these wholesome desires to delight in the written word and share that gift with the world.
Oh my gosh. So good. And so true. And SOOOOO relatable. Thank you for putting this into words and sharing it, Alexa!!
Thank you so much, Melissa!!
Waving to you from my own spot in the querying trenches! Thanks for putting all this into words. They rang too true with me. (My inbox truly hates to see me coming. 100 times a day.)
Gah I'm sorry you're in the trenches too! Thank you for reading! I'm glad, at least, we're not alone in this.
This is so real. I also seek so much from new emails, as if it will deliver a dream. Aren’t we the dream?
So beautifully said, Nisha! Thank you for reading!
Thank you so much, Matthew 🥹haha but I do imagine my email habits are not the most unique addiction