I finished a scene tonight, something really really hard to write. It's for a character I really think is the most pure and noble in the story, also the most tragic and short lived. The topic it'll broach, and the concept behind it... controversial. But I want to try to make this about how this character makes choices as best she can in the time she has. She is the most tragic, most worthy, and she gets cut short. Without spoiling anything, I have reason, an entire other possible series of books that would allude back to it, and her. Killing her here to resurrect her somewhere else. It might add an extra layer of possibility to the mythology and prophecy I'm trying to create. But, in the end, I'm writing a scene about rape. i hate it. It hurts so bad, but I feel like it's something that needs to get exposed. There's so much vulnerability when it comes to money and privilege. There's also what it does to the victims...
Thankfully, I have the best possible person coaching me through that psychology. A woman I admire who has been through so much. She is acutely and uniquely aware of how PTSD works. Once she reads through the draft, she needs to approve before it goes to print. Maybe one day I'll ask her another question if all goes right, if we're lucky, if we work hard enough, if we don't stumble too much.
I want to prove to her that I can do this, that I can write. Hell, really I want to prove it to myself. I hope she proves herself capable of what she aspires to be. I want, in 2021, to look back on this passage and smile knowing I was on the right track. I want to be humble in success and learn strength through struggle.
Hootie & The Blowfish - Let Her Cry
This is what I need to remember at the end of the day, a sense of progress and drive. A feeling of small success, another bit of stone chipped away from a sculpture I see in my head. I feel better more often than not.
I'm still sad, but I've kind of accepted I'm just going to be sad all the time and I'm okay with that. I can use it to motivate me, to push me. I've found comfort in the daily struggle, the idea that pain is a form of progress. I have to thank the gym for that. Every day I learn the same lesson about pain and gain. It's true in so many stereotypical ways.
While folding my laundry and putting it away, I had the following thought exercise:
What does Sysiphus think about for eternity? Assuming he gets used to the strain and daily struggle of rolling the boulder up the hill, he's got a lot of free time for thought. Kind of like how a runner uses the boring act of running to let their mind wander. Sysiphus has the ultimate ability to let his mind wander, so what does he think about? How many inner truths has he discovered? How many stories has he created in his head just to pass the time?
You can survive doing very little. But I hope that feeling alive is the product of hard, focused work and what it must bring. That will make the sadness okay, knowing I could use it to make me better.