It was during the fall of 2016 when some aspirational taps
on a keyboard finally kickstarted this stalled project. I had attempted to
begin this process several times before. However, the fantastical which floated
around in my mental ether never looked right in print. Where the rubber hit the
road or in this instance where the text popped on the screen, there was a major
disconnect. The fluidity of my imagination could never be read as more than a
few barely sensible sentences slapped together haphazardly.
Crouched in an Upper East Side coffee house for a little
over an hour each week, I committed myself to this endeavor. Me/free time was scant,
and these were moments I finally had just to myself. Week after week I again
slapped together new sentences. Every following week I would always find myself
reworking what I had written the previous time around. After about five weeks,
I finally had a full page that I was proud of.
My struggle was not with conceiving the story as a good
portion of my life had been spent daydreaming the unimaginable. My problem had
been with properly articulating my voice and desired prose. After capturing what
I deemed to be the right flow, it did just that and flowed. Once the first
chapter was in my back pocket, an unknown number of additional ones would subsequently
follow. Previously contained in darkness, this fanciful concoction would
finally be brought to light.
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