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It’s a girl

story! I finished my stupid story. Finished. It’s been done for about twelve hours, but I’ve been playing with it, trying to turn it into a story, with a beginning, a middle and an end. And it does. It has characters, it has a plot, and it has lines that make me happy, which isn’t too bad, considering that it’s not the story I set out to write last week, and was something that I sort of changed and started working with on Friday. And now? About fifteen minutes ago, it stopped being something that I’m working on and started being its own thing. If I had any idea what it was like to push out a baby from an uncomfortable place, I would make that comparison, except that I don’t and I find the whole ordeal to be kind of, well, disgusto, so I won’t. But I have to say… that transition, the almost audible pop that it makes when you realize that it can stand on its own two feet, that it has gone from something that “might be” to something that “is”? Extraordinary. I’m posting this so I’ll remember what that feels like, so that when I’m whining about writing (because God help me, half the time it sucks so much, this fear that your idea is just so damned wonderful you’re going to ruin it by trying to get it on paper, like holding a moth too closely that you prevent it from flying) and how I’ve got a queue of stories lining up inside my head, I’ll remember how it feels to let even an accidental one out. Even though in a day, I’m going to think the story sucks again, right now, it is a very very good feeling.

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