Seventeen years of writing
is missing. Seventeen years of written
backstories, family drama and saga.
Seventeen years of sitting at any computer I could get to just to type
out a small portion of what was in my head has gone missing. Seventeen years of mediocre at best stories
about a family I loved to write about, my friends liked to read and the
precedent of one of my major writing loves has all but disappeared.
How does one recouperate
that kind of work? Some could take it as
a sign that this would be an excellent time to rewrite everything in your new
style of writing, showing off you much improved writing skills. However, nostalgia is hard to beat. Reading of badly written stories brings back
the memory of the joy of writing.
It'll be hard to say
good-bye but when there isn't any choice, you can either take the loss with
dignity or wallow at the loss. Either
way, it's not coming back. Good-bye to
seventeen years and hello to whatever comes next.
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