I am living a scene from Buffy The Vampire Slayer.
Buffy was dead, but is brought back to life. Her friends are shining, but all she sees is fog. She steps away from them to speak to Spike. He has a chip implanted in his vampire body- one that prevents him from attacking good guys, unless he wants to deal with a world-class migraine. He is arguing with Buffy and, in the darkness behind her bright world, he hits her. The punch lands. No pain hits him back and they both digest what that means.
You came back wrong, he says.
In this scene, I play it all. I am the foggy hero unused to living, and the lifeless soul who lives too much. I am the argument and the punch. I am the agony in the absence of pain and horror in the presence of truth. I am the dark alley I walked into, the bright community that brought me back, and the place I was, and the place I am.
I came back wrong.
This isn't new to any of you, really.
If you didn't notice yourself, you've heard me talk about it since coming home.
I've been chewing on the thought, and sometime recently, it led to a metric moment. I figured it out. I figured out how to dream for myself, and then how to dream bigger, and then how to dream something so impossible that I'll have to walk right past possibility itself.
I want to be an author.
As in, "Hi, my name is Ra. I'm an author."
No qualifiers.
So within the next year, I will write a few books so I can discover what type of writing I love best, and so I can get my stories out of my heart to make room for new ones.
The first will be my currently cumulative thoughts on loss.
The next will be dedicated to the dirtiest, raunchiest, most shaming, most gritty, upsetting, unfair things I experienced- in vignette form.
The third is the story of the last two years, in some format, unknown to me at this time.
I've thought about publishing in the mainstream manner, but decided against it. I'm going to do this on my own, or through a very small press because I define success differently, and I want success by my standards, blossoming alongside the people who brought me back.
Become an author has just been pinned to my vision board.
And this post makes me accountable for the dream.
As my girls in prison would say-
I'm claiming it.
I'll probably need to raise money and cause a bit of a scene. I hope I can count on you for one or the other. I'd also appreciate any tips and thoughts- you can tell me here, or email me at [email protected]. I have no idea how all those thoughts will fold into this blog, but I am sure you'll be hearing all about my journey as I start moving.
I've been foggy for so long, but I have found a lot of certainty in the punches life has dealt me, so it has served a purpose. It completed the scene. I am ready for whatever happens next.
I am still where I was yesterday, and I am still where I am today, but I'll stop saying I came back wrong.
It really only matters that I came back,
ready to go forward.
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Is this the worst idea I've ever had? There's at least 3 other things I could have pinned to my vision board that would be more likely to end in embarrassing failure, right? What quote or song or video or thought do you return to when you feel totally terrified?
