Janet sat at her desk and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her fingers hovered over her keyboard as she prepared to write her first novel. She had all of the characters outlined, she had the story line written out, she had the plot, she had the setting, so why was it so hard for her to put everything together?
Ever since she was a little girl, she’d known she had a knack for story telling and she knew she wanted to share that talent with the rest of the world. She vowed to one day write a book then another and another. She wanted to be a famous author. She even toyed around with the idea of trying her hand at play writing and possibly even producing a movie. The possibilities were endless!
So, why was it so hard for her to take a step forward?
Was it fear of the prospect of failing that was holding her back? Was it the void she yearned to fill now that her husband had left her? Or was it a sign that she needed to give up and find a new dream?
She sighed and dropped her hands on her lap. They say that the worst of times brings out the best work in people. She could be wrong but she definitely considered her current situation to be…the worst. Her husband left her and her kids chose to live with him rather than her, she had a crappy job and a not-so-great studio apartment in the most run down part of town. How much worst can it get?
Frustrated she picked up her phone and flipped through her social media app, she came across a live news report of yet another unarmed black man being gunned down senselessly by the police but when she heard the victim’s name and recognized the area where the shooting took place, she felt a heaviness in her gut; she felt rage. Just then her phone rang, it was her uncle tearfully telling her what she already knew, her cousin was no longer with them.
Her cousin, Leon was more like a brother to her than a cousin and was actually the only person in her life who encouraged her to pursue her dream. Any time she’d call him he’ll answer the phone saying, “how many pages did you write today?” he’d scold her if she said none, he’d praise her if she said one. And now he was gone and she was now officially all alone.
With no idea what came over her, in an almost zombie-robotic mode she went back to that blank screen and her fingers started tapping frantically away at the keys. It was as if the story was just flowing from her soul.
By the end of the day she’d written, edited and revised four full chapters. Sitting back she looked heavenward and envisioned a telephone conversation with Leon.
“How many pages have you written today, cuz’?”
“Over a hundred” she’d respond
“Awwwwwwwww’right now! One step at a time! Don’t forget about me when you get to Hollywood!”
“You’ll be right there, with me, though!”
And he would, every step of the way.