Dear Flyboy,
You made me cry. I was okay until I got to the last couple of lines of your letter where you said:
I need you.
Isn’t that enough?
And suddenly I was sitting at my desk bawling like a little kid. Do you know how many people I’ve said that to in my life? Do you know how many of them never said "yes?" Maybe it’s all this therapy I’m doing lately or maybe I’m just finally peeling away enough of the layers of myself that I can see you there, waiting for me to find you. It’s going to be so hard to write your story because yes, you are me.
You are the me that never knew my father and was always afraid to ask anyone any questions about him. You are the me that is filled with hundreds of questions about why I do the things I do and wondering if anyone else ever felt the same way I feel right this moment. You are the me that questions who makes us what we are, heredity or environment or some combination of the two. You are the me that doesn’t laugh out loud and is always afraid of looking silly in front of other people. You are the me that is sure I am the only one in the entire history of the universe who ever did something wrong and can’t forgive themselves for it.
To write your story means to lay myself wide open to feeling everything you feel. It means actually allowing myself to FEEL. Do you know how many years I have spent not feeling things? Sigh. I suppose you do. Your story is going to rip me up in a lot of ways and what if I can’t put myself back together again? You will turn me inside out and then everyone will be able to see who I really am and then, well, and then they might all turn away.
If I put myself out there for you like that and then your story falls apart, I don’t know if I can handle it.
But I think the hardest thing about your story, the very hardest thing about writing your story, is that by the end of the book you are going to understand where you came from and what made you the person you are today. You are going to get answers to all those questions you jot down in that notebook you hide in your flight bag. You, Flyboy, are going to get to know all about your dad.
And me, I never will.
Signed,
Author with a hole in her heart
Dear Plant Kid,
I love writing about you and I love sharing plant knowledge but I really really need to know what you want. I have no title for your story, no names for most of the people in your story, no idea what your story is about and absolutely no idea what the point of the whole story is.
What do you want more than anything else in the world? Why can’t you have it? What’s getting in your way? What would happen if you got your deepest wish?
All the roses and oranges and friends and favors you do for Mr. Mac don’t amount to a hill of beans if you can’t make me want something for you.
Signed,
Author moving you to the bottom of the list, for now
Dear Lost boy,
I understand. Really I do. I want to remind that I did share the beginning of YOUR story in my Teaser Tuesday. I haven’t done that for anyone else yet. I think you and Flyboy are neck and neck. I know more about his story than I do yours but I know more about yours than I do Plant kid’s story.
There’s another thing I’ve been thinking about with you. There’s this kid who used to talk to me. His name was Frankie. Frankie grabbed me by the throat when I was driving one day and wanted to tell me about some terrible things. He had a sister. A sister with a secret. I saw Frankie’s house and I saw where his mom worked and I saw a bunch of not-so-pretty things in Frankie’s life. The last time I saw Frankie he was running, fast, away from something or someone. He hasn’t spoken to me for over a year. Maybe longer.
Now I can’t help but wonder, are you Frankie?
Your first letter brought tears to my eyes! keep on writing! If it’s hard, it must be good! π
Thanks. Keep reminding me to let it all out, will ya? π
You will be able to put yourself back together again. In the end, feeling is always better than not feeling, even when it hurts.
You are courageous, Susan.
I appreciate your kind words more than I can say. Thank you.
When you write Flyboy’s story, I think there will be some healing in it for you, too. Because you will have fashioned something complete out of the empty spot in your life. It won’t be YOUR complete life, but it will be a story, and it will be one that so many kids (and adults) out there will be able to connect with and get hope from. And, even if you know nothing more about your father, I do believe you’ll know more about yourself. Which counts a lot.
Thanks, Becky. You are so right. I love this, “And, even if you know nothing more about your father, I do believe you’ll know more about yourself.”
I guess I am girding myself for the difficult task ahead – going deep.
I am so glad I have friends like you to lean on when I need to.
Well, I’m pushing myself a bit. I have a feeling I’m going to be digging deep into some of my own painful places, those places you think are fine/dealt with until you start writing about them!
You are very brave to share so much of yourself through Fly Boy. Gosh, it’s scary isn’t it!? You are going to get so much love in return.
Here’s hoping Fly Boy helps you find some answers.
Thanks, I’m either really brave or really stupid. π There’s that fear of sharing so much of yourself and then hearing the rest of the world laughing while they point and say “What, you thought I was interested in that?”
Me, insecure? No, not much.
I think Fly Boy will lead me to some answers. And that will be good, even if some of them are ones I don’t want to hear.
I’m with you. Flyboy made me cry, too.
The both of you are brave.
x o
Thank you. I’m not feeling so very brave at the moment but I will try.
Flyboy will help you. I think that’s one reason for writing fiction: so we don’t have to unearth this stuff all alone.
That’s a very good point – that we don’t have to do it alone because the characters are right there in the muck of it with us.
Thanks.
I felt like I was reading somebody’s heart at the moment of epiphany when I read your Flyboy letter, Susan.
This is the story you have to write, to find or create your own answers. Hang on for the ride, and know we’ll still be here, no matter what your answers are.
Thanks, Laura.
I know this is the one, for now. I’ve been building up to it, now it is time to go deep.
I’m really glad to have the support.