The Page glares up at him, white and blank and hungry. It is small but immense, finite but endless. It demands words be written. But he hesitates, fingers poised above they keys. Will this word be the right word? The endless stories that he can see with his mind beg to be set free into the world, to be placed onto this Page. He knows he must share them. But will the true words come? Will the story set out on the correct path once his fingers fly and keys come down and words, sentences, paragraphs fill the Page? He looks again at the Page awaiting on the screen. The Cursor blinks steadily, prepared to reveal the words he types. And yet no words come. He looks up for a minute, trying to find the right word to start this journey, to fill the page and tell his stories. He looks out the nearby window, the world outside visible through the thin white curtains. The street is quite, and no one moves about in the pale light of the late afternoon winter sun. It isn't late yet, but dusk will soon descend.
Back to the screen, to the waiting Page and blinking Cursor. Where is that word, that perfect word to start the story's journey. And which story to tell. He has visited this place in his mind so many times. He knows so many things about it. He can see the towns and cities on the map, the people busying about in their lives, stories waiting to be shared. But where to begin? In the big city with the Mover and Shaker? In the small town with the kid who he shares much in common with? Maybe there is some other angle he is missing?
And is this the world which he wants to share? There are so many he visits. Some more fleshed out than others. Worlds where history has turned this way and that and become something new. Worlds where islands float above the sea. Worlds where magic abounds. Worlds where steam power and clockwork run everything. Can he share them all?
And will anyone care to read these words, to visit these worlds with him? What if, even if he finds the right words, or even words which he, the Page, and Cursor can at least tolerate, no one ever sees them? Could he put such effort into crafting these worlds into life, if no one else reads of them? Will it be worth it?
Yes, he decides. In that moment, a word forms in his mind. Signals fire and go to his fingers. They press down on the keys. The Cursor moves on the Page, and letters appear. Quickly the first word is formed, and then another word, and then another after that. In moments, the first paragraph stands solid on the page, and he is off on his journey, into the Unknown.
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I'm jumping into blogging and story writing again. This I intend to be different than my other story blog, the Weekly Chrononaut. That blog was genre-specific (Alternate History), and this I am wanting to have a broader scope. Granted, science fiction and fantasy are my favorite places to visit, so I am sure most of these posts will be in that field, but I don't want any limits on things like that. Some stories I post here first may also end up there, and vice versa.
My goal is to post some sort of short story or prose at least once a week. Feel free to share on social media if you wish. Feedback welcome as well.
Back to the screen, to the waiting Page and blinking Cursor. Where is that word, that perfect word to start the story's journey. And which story to tell. He has visited this place in his mind so many times. He knows so many things about it. He can see the towns and cities on the map, the people busying about in their lives, stories waiting to be shared. But where to begin? In the big city with the Mover and Shaker? In the small town with the kid who he shares much in common with? Maybe there is some other angle he is missing?
And is this the world which he wants to share? There are so many he visits. Some more fleshed out than others. Worlds where history has turned this way and that and become something new. Worlds where islands float above the sea. Worlds where magic abounds. Worlds where steam power and clockwork run everything. Can he share them all?
And will anyone care to read these words, to visit these worlds with him? What if, even if he finds the right words, or even words which he, the Page, and Cursor can at least tolerate, no one ever sees them? Could he put such effort into crafting these worlds into life, if no one else reads of them? Will it be worth it?
Yes, he decides. In that moment, a word forms in his mind. Signals fire and go to his fingers. They press down on the keys. The Cursor moves on the Page, and letters appear. Quickly the first word is formed, and then another word, and then another after that. In moments, the first paragraph stands solid on the page, and he is off on his journey, into the Unknown.
--------------
I'm jumping into blogging and story writing again. This I intend to be different than my other story blog, the Weekly Chrononaut. That blog was genre-specific (Alternate History), and this I am wanting to have a broader scope. Granted, science fiction and fantasy are my favorite places to visit, so I am sure most of these posts will be in that field, but I don't want any limits on things like that. Some stories I post here first may also end up there, and vice versa.
My goal is to post some sort of short story or prose at least once a week. Feel free to share on social media if you wish. Feedback welcome as well.
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