"The beauty of the world lies in it's creation. The beauty of creation lies in it's mystery."
And so I have finished creating a world that has taken two decades to create. Updated innumerable times, revised and altered chronically. After thinking of land, races, histories, when you mature as a writer you realize the power of letting go of the handle and letting the ride go wild. Resist the temptation to control the story and let there by mystery, chaos, and suspense.
But I am proud. I have nothing but a skeleton, ideas, and images in my head. Pieces of prose, but nothing to connect. I am still horrible at writing. My stories have so many mistakes - punctuation, grammar, chronology, lol. But I do have my ideas. And I know I can't quit. It seems like because I can't do anything but write on, I have fun doing so.
But the map. There's just something about looking at the map that makes the whole story start to form- like a shape forming from a vapor. And the past, the present, and the future collide at once. Those in betweens that are so hard to write seem to mend themselves together organically and it's one of the best feelings I have when- in those times, absent of crippling doubt or pedantic research and editing- I can see my whole story from start to finish.
In truth...I might not get to write m story out for a very long time. But in a way, I feel it's already written. I just need to write it in a language other people will understand.
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