This is a passage I worked on this morning. The original was posted yesterday.
There's something moving in the process. I clearly see my potential in 2013 in the first year of writing—there was concrete evidence that I could relax in the practice. Today I brought my experience to it.
Process and technique are everything to me, as is progress. I tried to convey that as a teacher. Sometimes I failed.
Eight years ago, I began working with an editor. She saw the places in the writing where I was freaking out and told me I could just say it. I paid her for the knowledge. Apprenticeship teaches you the value of an investment. I wanted to hold what I was creating in high esteem so it could shine bright.
By accident, in late August, I erased my blog and archive. I shook my fist at the sky for a bit. Turns out the recovery process is a blessing. Finding the work and bringing it back, to play with the words and structure, is a gift in a pandemic.
I know another kind of mastery.
The isolation has been terrible and beautiful—things happen in the quiet.
© Deborah Reid, 2021 - 2023. All Rights Reserved.