Finally…it finally happened. The holidays are behind us, and I cynically say thank goodness. Our routine is settling back into a steady rhythm, and at last, I finally found my way back to the computer this past weekend. And nothing has ever felt so good as to sit down and reconnect with my long, lost friend…my stories.
Maggie was there, and Charles and Duncan, and Mrs. McGreevy…oh, how I missed them! I’m sure that’s a problem only obsessed writers have – missing characters. These ‘people’ inhabit my mind, some days more pronounced than others. It was wonderful to work on their story again. And maybe, just maybe, I may have finally figured out how I’m going to end this book. Maybe.
The hard part was going back to work today. I had to separate myself from my story, put it away for another day, and focus on a different part of my life. Even though my first career has been fulfilling, I can’t help but dream about the day when I can write full-time. My life, Part 2.
I’m paddling my way through what I need and must do to develop my writing. To ever be able to write for more than enjoyment, I have to conquer my fear of unveiling my work to others. Conquering fears…Maggie is doing the same.
Mrs. McGreevy spoke, “Ye both are similar creatures. Pretty little things, needing love and assurance, but you’re so much stronger than Prudy ever was. You have a mighty strong backbone and she, well, she was crippled by fear most of her life. She feared what people would do to her if they ever found out about her secrets.”
“Feared,” Maggie dared asked, leery of stopping her words.
“Fear of being locked up in a hospital somewhere, fear of being thought of as crazy or even worse, as some witch or the like. She feared a right many things and no talking or soothing would ever ease her fears. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. We tried over and over to soothe her to no use.”
“That is very sad.”
“It was indeed.” Crooked fingers raised to rub weary eyes before locking onto Maggie. “I’ll tell you this much, missus. She dreamed, she saw things when she was awake, and no matter how long in between the sights, they always returned. Most were worrisome to her, like her seeming to know Constance would live a very short life, but not all were difficult. There were times when she smiled at her dreams, and there’d be months and months when she’d be free from it all. I’ll tell you what I told her….there’s no fear to be had in your dreams. Take them for what they are…no more, no less. If some figure who looks like your Mister Charles but calls himself Hank speaks to you now and then, then say hello back. What’s there to worry for? It’ll all be just dreams, that’s all.”
Grinning, Maggie reached out to pat her arm, “Thank you for that, for your words. I’ll cherish them and keep them to myself. I’ll tell no one if that’s your wish.”
“I only tell ya so you’ll not let your own fears hold you back. Never let them cripple you as Prudy did.”