the lost hero

I don’t always bother transcribing the various things I scribble down at various points in my life. Sometimes the point is simply to write them for later reference and forget them till you need them.

An author’s relationship with his/her characters is a very odd one. For myself, I find I am very deeply involved in their lives while I write about them and when a book finishes, it becomes almost painful to let them go. But it’s often important to let them go so another set of “friends” can come along. And sometimes they walk out of your life before you’re finished with them…

I wrote the following in pencil shortly after I moved here and found that I couldn’t write. I missed my old house very much and especially the view from my bedroom window that I gazed over my monitor at. I know I must have written this the first winter we were here, and it must have been on the beach. It’s also the first entry in that notebook that I know was written here.

” I look for you in every stranger’s face I see. Sometimes I think I see your eyes, your hair, your mouth. I wait to hear your voice when the phone rings, or see you across a crowded cafe. Hopeless. You’re not real. You don’t exist. I created you, your world.

“And yet. And yet I feel you out there, alive and real as the stones, the shingle that crunches beneath my feet, or the waves that roar and sigh as they hit the shore. I made you up, and yet you haunt me. Yours is not a tale told by an idiot. It’s real. Somewhere, somehow, both you and your world are real. I’m looking for the door so I can step in and join you. So far the only door is my computer screen.

“What are these insane longings for things that can never be?”    

~ by Viv on June 29, 2009.

One Response to “the lost hero”

  1. […] June 29, 2009 by viv66 I’ve written a few poems today but it’s kind of in lieu of anything more meaty. I found some stuff in a notebook and it made me think about the whole process of where ideas come from. I’ve put a bit of that over at: […]

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