Oh, this was just fascinating, so clever, so thought-provoking and so touching. Your thoughts, Amy's thoughts on childhood and writing are so perfectly true. The beauty and wonder of childhood was so strongly conveyed here, and the love of writing, how it is just part of you. There are so many perfect bits of insight I could quote half the fic, most striking ones here:
I have always believed that no story really worth telling is too difficult for a child if you put enough thought into it. It’s the grown-ups who get everything confused later on.
I didn’t know whether I was ready. I still don’t, but when you get to my age readiness takes a back seat to necessity.
Imagine being asked where your dreams come from. I didn’t choose them, but they are part of me, and all I can do when I describe them in print is hope that someone, somewhere, will understand.
Simply to say “for my readers” isn’t enough for the grown-ups, you see: they think the reply has to be something the author’s been hiding, like a secret.
I like to think some of them remember the people they were in between, because that is how stories live; through words that gain new meaning at every stage of life, and are passed on to whoever comes after.
And the ending lines nearly undid me. Such simple, to the point and powerful emotion. ♥ Thank you for this.
"Sport" Drabble #75 - 550 words or less Due February 8th, 2021
Upcoming Themes:
WINTER BREAK - December 22, 2020 One-Shot #76 - "Amnesty" - 200 words or more Drabble #76 - "Amnesty" - 500 words or less One-shot #77 - "Illusion" - 200 words or more Drabble #77 - "Clay" - 550 words or less
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Date: 2014-11-18 09:05 pm (UTC)I have always believed that no story really worth telling is too difficult for a child if you put enough thought into it. It’s the grown-ups who get everything confused later on.
I didn’t know whether I was ready. I still don’t, but when you get to my age readiness takes a back seat to necessity.
Imagine being asked where your dreams come from. I didn’t choose them, but they are part of me, and all I can do when I describe them in print is hope that someone, somewhere, will understand.
Simply to say “for my readers” isn’t enough for the grown-ups, you see: they think the reply has to be something the author’s been hiding, like a secret.
I like to think some of them remember the people they were in between, because that is how stories live; through words that gain new meaning at every stage of life, and are passed on to whoever comes after.
And the ending lines nearly undid me. Such simple, to the point and powerful emotion. ♥ Thank you for this.