Sometimes you come back from an edge you didn’t know you were standing on. I finished novella “In the Forests of the Night” almost a week ago. That’s the first major piece of new fiction I’ve written since the cancer diagnosis. It was difficult to write for reasons which aren’t clear to me yet, but not onerously so.
I sent the story to the first readers and to the editor. I’ve heard back from various quarters that is works well. It wasn’t until I heard back that I realized I’d been holding my figurative breath — waiting to see if I’d Lost It to my disease.
This is utterly non-rational, and I didn’t know I’d been doing it, but I felt like I’d passed a very important gateway. Fred did not live inside my tumor, or my sigmoid colon. He lives inside my head. Which I’ve always known, but the brain-spoon has been stirring so much lately.
I’m so relieved that I think I’ll go write something else!