The Creature Lives!
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Below.
Oh, man. Oh…wow. Just wow. Oh…yeah.
Pardon my near-orgasmic mumblings but I’m damned near giddy right now. Five minutes ago, I completed a major project. I mean, M * A * J * O * R. And it’s beautiful and so full of so many good things. Tomorrow, I’ll send it to the printer’s, but I really want to look at it one last time with a fresh(er) eye and have Shannon take a look when she returns from her speech competition be- cause she’s got a good eye for design.
My friend Maggie Shayne once told me that when she finishes a manuscript, she declares, “The creature lives!” Yes, all that manifesting has gone from the Ether to my mind to my hand to pixel and print and paper. I’ve birthed another project from The Void into The Physical.
I’ll probably hit the next project later tonight or in the
morning. I think this is one of those things that separate me from so many people I know, and hinders their understanding of me.
One of my colleagues once called me “The Poster
Girl for Productivity” simply because I spent my evenings manifesting stories instead of kicked back, watching reruns on TV. He’d always longed to “write a book,” too, but even though he admired all the things I seem to accomplish in my “spare” time, he has yet to punch the off button on the remote and pick up a pen. And that’s been
15 years ago.
It seems strange to me that people slave away at the office all day, then come home and make dinner, turn on the TV and fall asleep in front of it, waking long enough to look at their spouses once a week and suggest some sexual exercise equivalent to a commercial break. Yet, so many of my colleagues claim to do just that. It seems a little surreal to me, but to them, I’m the one who’s odd.
Bored people tend to be boring people, I think, and I desperately need mental stimulation. I have occasionally asked a man who might be a romantic partner to collaborate with me on such a creation, but so far, they’ve been all talk and no action. Most aren’t even talk and aren’t the slightest bit interested in a joint venture into the creative realms.
And so I too often find myself bored around people who say they are bored, and there I am, gnawing through my restraints, eager to write a song or a poem or a new chapter.
Anything to play midwife to this army of creatures
I’m creating in my lifetime.