Would That I Might

It came back I knew it would. I did not think it was gone or even missing,  not really.  It was  just a bit of trouble, it was just me not being there, not being in the space to know and think or notice what was there. I was closed to it, was responsible for not knowing, for not observing or experiencing. It was not a choice that I made, not a choice but a state, a place within me, a mode.  I was not ready and it went wrong. I can't help that. It will be that way at times.  That is the world, is being a person in the world. It is never going to be perfect, will not always go right or even well. I know that.  I accept it and it is better. If I had panicked it might not have come back so fast.

I don't feel that I was quite as successful tonight in terms of my fiction writing.  There wasn't a great idea in my head, at least not one I could find a way to work with. I have had a few interesting images that could serve as devices, maybe, if I had a sense of how to make them fit into stories.  I suppose I need to accept these kinds of ideas, even when I find them harder to work with.  It may be that the reason I had so much difficulty coming up with another idea is because I had already been given some and refused to consider them more seriously.

I have fallen back and out and away and do not have answers or reasons or a way to redeem myself, to make it right or better.  I know I should have been diligent and there are easy excuses for why, but it is unkind of me, is cruel, I think.  It is not what is needed, is not what you need from, I know, is not how I should be. You deserve to know this. I won't tell you, though. I'll write about it but I will not say anything.

One thing that is certainly true is that I am getting more comfortable writing fiction without a clear premise in mind when I start.  I am starting to find the ability to just improvise it by following along with a voice or a situation, I suppose, though I do still feel more comfortable writing a story that I already have a clearer sense of.  That seems normal, I guess, or I suppose it is probably a matter of the individual writer, really.  For me, clearly I am more comfortable when I have a strong sense of the story I am intending to write, but the fact that I am gaining the flexibility and skill to write without a clear sense of direction in mind already, I can't help but think of that as a good thing and a sign that I am developing as a fiction writer in general.

None of it was said or will be said and you tried but could not and now  it is over and gone and done and there are questions and no one has answers and it is the least of all the things, is nothing much, is just what you said, what you tried to say the little bit you could say anything, and it is not what is impotant. It was nothing significant, I know that, was not advice or a great secret, I know that is true, but I do wonder. It is years ago, now, and I think about it what I would call a fair amount, with regularity, at least. It is not all I think about, is not always what comes to me when I am missing you or considering your absence, but it is there. is a question I wish could be resolved. I wonder if that itself is the reason or if it is just another part of my grief. Probably, it is a bit of both.

I was worried that I had kind of jinxed myself last night by discussing how well I feel my fiction writing is going at the moment, but I actually wrote a story that I feel quite good about.  It is a bit longer and has a little more to it, maybe, than some of the things I have been writing, and I think it is also kind of fun and maybe a bit more approachable than a lot of the other work, while still being in the same general ballpark as far as the tenor of the piece goes, or that is what I think.  Of course, I only just wrote it a little while ago and have not really reread it.  I certainly haven't taken enough time to have any kind of coherent view of it right now, so it may be that once I have a little more distance my opinion will change somewhat.  Even considering that, I can't help but feel a bit more certain about what I was discussing last night.  I am learning and developing my approach to fiction.  I've been putting in the work for a while and I feel as if it is beg