That is why I like being alone. No one to explain to. Or push aside so I can visit my quiet...quiet space whenever I want. I can seek monsters, there...and angels...and worlds I've never imagined for myself...
I don't remember the first time I visited this shadow-filled land...but I know I first used it to write HTRASG. A crude title, but of a meaning unto itself. It warned me I'd be dealing with a wounded man demanding his story be told, blunt and cold and crying for understanding.
Curt. I felt almost as if he were real. Part of me...but not. Sitting there. Waiting. In silence. Until I agreed to let him reveal his tale through me. Which I did. That book came from his world, not from mine. And it still affects people.
It wasn't until I was writing narrative fiction that I really began to understand who my people were. My angels and demons. I'd written screenplays, only with characters who were sketches to be filled in by others. I didn't know them well enough to reveal them.
Curt led me to a world I could never have visited on my own. Like wandering through a mist into a new existence, greeted by more people who welcomed me, happily. And told me things I did not want to know...but had to. Some fought with me. Others pleaded. And some merely waited until I was ready. A few were even all of these things.
I didn't like it, much of the time, but I pushed and fought to remain true. And now...no matter what anyone says about my work...my books...I did as right by them as I could.
I feel like I'm stepping into a new part of my silence. Feel like I am no longer afraid to write what I write. Meaning, I no longer have to overcome that fear. It's gone. I am who I am, and all that matters is I do not shirk my responsibility to my people.
Let it be what it is.
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