The space between two projects yawns before me like a giant mouth gaping open between two steep, canyon walls. I know I have to jump to get to the other side but the longer I wait and contemplate, the wider the abyss appears. I feel my legs tremble at the thought of trying. I may even retreat and begin to explore the walls behind me, endlessly editing my previous project until the old is all I can imagine. In the end what pulls me forward, what drives me to make the jump are the voices.
Clear as a lover’s whisper in my ear I hear.
“My mother caused all my angst and she’s why I don’t trust women.”
“The scene. The Blue Coat School, Birmingham, England 1780, a boy rushes out the back entrance into the stifling alleyway.”
“She wanted to be sacrificed to the dragon. Fool.”
Snippets of stories, flash in vivid pictures. I have to choose which voice to follow, which life is the most compelling. For it is only the most vibrant, the most compelling, the most twisted and fun story that will push me to make the leap from the comfort of project done, to the bone shaking terror of the blank page.
Some may consider me a candidate for some psych drugs and a week in a nice white room, but I know this is the path to my next character, my next project, my next alter to spill the contents of my head and heart. I’m almost there. All I need is that final push to make the leap. The piece of research, the tv show, the song that spears me forward and brings the story to life and fill the bottom of the canyon with fluffy pillows.
I need to immerse myself again in a creative bath of input, then I will be ready for the challenge. Wish me luck. For every comment you leave the space between closes by 1.25 feet. Please comment away!