Maya Angelou said “There is no greater agony than
bearing an untold story inside you.” I happen to love this quote, as it speaks
volumes about how I feel about my own storytelling. My love for storytelling began in the
passenger seat of my mom’s ’86 Chevy Corsica while travelling the sixteen mile
stretch down a back country road to elementary school. She would point out such
things as two cars parked at an intersection or a lonely plastic bag hanging
from the limb of a tree. From these inconsequential objects, we created stories
of lovers meeting under the cloak of night and drug dealers smuggling their
wares in the trees of Blaine County, Oklahoma.
I know that I
may never be acclaimed as an author, and I know that my work may not really
ever be seen. However, this doesn't diminish the fact that I have stories
inside of me constantly. .” I know this agony. It is often hard for me to fall
asleep at night because once the quiet of the night sets in, a story comes
forefront, playing like a movie reel inside my mind. If I don’t get up and write
something down, I will not sleep. I will continue on and on with the story in
my mind, and if I do happen to finally doze off in the wee hours of the night,
the story comes alive again when my eyes open. Most of the time, I can’t get
the idea of it out of my mind. It consumes notebooks, napkins, and post-its. It
became bigger and bigger and bigger—and I love it. So yea, not getting it out
there to share definitely puts agony into the process, but once it gets out
there—it feels really good.
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