Dear Author Who Can’t Make Up Her Mind,
I’m going to tell you some things you already know and if it sounds like it’s coming from you and not from me, remember how much of yourself you have poured into me.
I am you. I am the insecure, can’t make his mind, why doesn’t anyone love me you. I am the you who doesn’t understand you are afraid to let people know how you feel, why you worry so much about what they will see in you and why you put up a wall that keep people at a distance. I am the you who can’t sleep because of worrying all the time. I am the you who wants a family and doesn’t feel like they deserve it.
Keep that in mind when it comes to telling my story. Trust yourself.
I need you to tell the truth about me because I’m too afraid to do it for myself. I need you to explain to people how I really feel about what my mother did and what I really remember about my dad. I need you to find a way to support me so that people don’t freak out when they hear the whole story.
I need you.
Isn’t that enough?
Dear Insecure Author,
My sister? You know I think I remember my mom talking about a sister. They had a fight about something a long time ago, right after I was born and she went away and I stayed behind. I bet she wasn’t so thrilled to see me show up on her doorstep after mom died, was she?
I do like the attic bedroom. I like being able to open the window and reach right out and pluck an orange off the tree. I like the way the mourning doves gather on the roof of the garage and peck around at the scraps of bread I throw out for them. I’m not so crazy about the way the stairs go straight up and the railing is a little wobbly. I’m afraid I’m going to fall and land at the bottom of the stairs on that metal grate for the furnace.
I’m mostly okay just hanging out with Mr. Mac and learning from him but I’m thinking me and my sister don’t have a lot to say (except for when she’s yelling at me.) I could use a friend my own age. Think you could work on that for me? There’s this one kid at school, Benny, who seems okay. We worked together on the science project and he didn’t think my worms were stupid at all. There’s Alison too, but she’s a girl and I don’t want her to think I like her special like. Besides, her dad is the one with all those fancy roses so maybe I better not have much to do with her.
Dear Person Who Keeps Ignoring Me Even Though Everyone Says You Should Be Writing About Me First,
I am not talking to you anymore.
Not at all.
I am not even going to tell you about what happened when I went to see Max.
What fancy roses? What happened with the roses? And, oh, plant kid, any time you think you NEED not to have much to do with someone, my brain flares—oh, yes, you do!
Oh, I can’t tell you about the roses yet but it had a lot to do with the way he met Mr. Mac!
And of course Alison is going to cause some kind of trouble, I’m sure!
I so want to read Flyboy’s story. Either that or adopt him. And I think my dog would get jealous, as would my would-be-pilot husband, so WRITE THE THING ALREADY!
LOL. Thank you for your support. I actually had just put Flyboy at the top of the list. I need a challenge to get at least a rough synopsis in place.