When I was in middle school,
I wanted to be a writer and change the lives
of every reader. I mostly rewrote John Mayer
lyrics by changing the names of the women, cities, and activities
involved in his songs, but I swear, Her Figure Is A Magical Place
is still one of my best pieces of work.
As I got older, I realized that even if I don’t become an author,
I’m still writing a story. We all are. I’m currently on Chapter 26
which causes confusion. People begin reading me,
with perplexed eyes.
And I realize that they haven’t read the first 25 chapters of my life.
I give the cliff notes version, but it’s just not the same.
People don’t realize the-story-so-far summary becomes a routine,
and less detailed the more times the tale is told.
People begin putting us back on the bookshelf.
They want an easier read.
To begin fully understanding me,
you have to be well-versed in my parent’s memoirs.
You have to find my dedication page and learn
that this account is devoted to the
ultimate Author, maybe then you’ll begin
to understand where I’m coming from.
You will not know every name in the special thanks section
but you can always ask me for the table of contents,
because I am an open-book and will tell you
everything I know thus far.
I am an unfinished narrative with dog-eared pages.
I place bookmarks in parts of my past plots,
just in case I want to revisit those moments.
At times, I feel as if I have no backbone or moral compass
but I came with a spine when I was published and despite my frail pages, I am a hard cover. You can check me out for a couple months
and pay your late fees when you’re done with me, but I know some day I will be taken down from the bookshelf for good.
I am a one-of-one limited edition copy, and
I will be placed in the hands of an avid reader who loves my story.
The margins will be filled with personal notes and she will highlight her favorite quotes.
She will be my companion novel, my equal and we will write the perfect sequel.
The dynamic duo, I’m ecstatic because I would have been static without her.
Before her I stumbled over the specifics, but now I carefully place every word in front of the other so I can trace the figure of my lover with the perfect adjectives.
I edit the last 25 chapters and add in some additives,
footnotes so people are aware of all of the obstacles it took for me to find the pinnacle of this story. There’s going to come a time when the reader can no longer
effect our outcome, but for now, this is a choose-your-own-adventure and we’re just filling in
I come with flawed character traits, and at times I’ve lost my way, but
I have not lost my worth. The moral of this story is that
Not everyone will like your plot.
Perhaps you were too similar to a script they’ve already read.
Perhaps they judged you by your cover.
Perhaps they met you before you had grown to be the full-fleshed
protagonist you are today.
Every day you are writing your cannon.
Your genre will receive poor reviews
from narcissistic critics,
But I swear on my editor’s page if you settle
for less than being someone’s best seller,
it will break my paperback heart.
Be more than just a personal diary.
You deserve to be published.
You deserve to be read in your entirety.
You deserve to be someone’s favorite story.
When I was in middle school, I wanted to be a writer.
and change the lives of every reader.
I still do…