This is the story of a girl,
Who cried a river and drowned the whole world!
And while she looked so sad in photographs,
I absolutely love her,
When she smiles…
How many days in a year?
She woke up with hope but she only found tears.
And I can be so insincere,
Making her promises never for real!
As long as she stands there waiting,
Wearing the holes in the soles of her shoes!
How many days disappear?
When you look in the mirror so how do you choose?
Your clothes never wear as well the next day,
And your hair never falls in quite the same way-
But you never seem to run out of things to say…
Nine Days, Story of a Girl
I’ve been keeping up with my friend Kate’s blog for the last nine months or so, and sporadically before that. She doesn’t write often, at least not recently, so one evening a week or so ago, I started reading through her “Best Of” archives.
All I can say is “wow!”
I have tried here on eros to open myself up, tell my stories as honestly as I can, the heartache, the pain and the joy…. I believe that we are our stories. By sharing those stories we allow ourselves to be known. Many people try to get to know another by asking about them. But anything I could tell you about who I am would be filtered by my own preconceptions of who I want to be, whereas when I tell you the stories that are my life, you see for yourself who the person behind those stories actually is.
So back to Katie… I’ve known for years that she is an amazing person. We have yet to meet face to face, although we have made a couple of failed attempts – one day we’ll get it right! But when I read her stories, I realized she is beyond amazing. And she is also a tremendous writer. I realized that all of the stories I tell are relatively cold and clinical. Perhaps that is a function of intent – while I try to open up my own feelings and reactions to the things I am writing about, I am intentionally not trying to evoke those feelings in my readers. Rather, I am hoping that what they take from my stories are feelings and ideas that relate to their own lives.
I suppose these are neither good things nor bad things… merely different approaches and styles. Yet still I am a bit shamed, a bit envious, and a bit humbled. Go read Katie’s stories and see what I mean…..