Gone, But Not Lost

"Losing would be painful, but not as painful as knowing there's something you could've done." -Joe Trippi

Ah . . . I lost my writing binder. That equals almost a hundred pages of writing, revising, and maps- gone. Hours upon hours of head-ducked, out-of-reality, feverish work- gone. What do you do? Do you break down and cry, hiding in your room in a refusal to face reality, but unable to refuge? Should you refuse to write ever again, saying that fate as intervened and you're clearly not destined to be a writer? Do you freak out and grab your friends, shouting that its gone and do they have any idea what this means?

Or do you continue to write?

A story is not just words; a story is a part of you. I can still recall certain phrases and entire scenes from my first books in fifth grade. They might make me shudder as I remember my clumsy way and form of getting my point across, but I haven't forgotten.

Never stop writing. You can do this. It doesn't matter what's gone in the physical world- there's another much more appealing reality in your head. Write what's true, write what's false, write the reality and the fiction. It doesn't matter what it is- just write. Who cares if you're crazy? At least your "I'm going to go hide in my room for three hours with my imaginary friends" crazy, and not several other negative types of crazy. Just write.

And write.

Never doubt yourself. If you do doubt yourself, please come over here and let me tell you how amazing you are.

Kirah