An Excerpt of My Own

A bit of my own creative writing.

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While I finish a book I’m currently reading, I thought I’d share my own most recent spout of creative writing.

I have struggled, recently, with my desire to try new things: Once we have trained in one route, through university or school or otherwise, there is a degree of expectation put upon our shoulders to follow that route for the rest of our lives. But ‘the rest of our lives’ is a long time. Why must we be so restricted? Why must the naivety of our young adulthood determine the rest of our days? The other paths are so unattractive to those who expect us to conform to a piece of paper we earned when we were teens, but sitting still just does not satisfy me. When the other options are off limits, the desire to reach them can consume us until the one we’re following appears ugly. Poisonous. I believe that only once we’re set loose to try new things, can we truly understand and appreciate the beauty of what we already had.

Today, I share two short excerpts from my developing novel, When it Rains. Please leave a comment and share your support. Any creative/constructive feedback is welcome.

HOW TO START AGAIN (1)

It begins with a choice: wash out the pan and start from scratch, or try saving it by adding on top. That would seem the safer option; it means security, and no bridges to burn. But it doesn’t guarantee removing the original taste, and always risks turning sour.

Starting from scratch entails cutting ties; A fresh new start with no strings to hold you down. But you’d be alone. Nothing to fall back on. Nobody to pick you up. When the past is tossed aside, and the bridge burned, it can be very hard to cross back over. So many dream of making the brave, giant leap into the unknown, but so few take the chance.

The risks are just far too great.

HOW TO START AGAIN (4)

What will we find in the great unknown? What will we hear? What will we taste?

Will it be what we expected? Will it hold everything we’ve dreamed of? Inspiring prospects? Brand new horizons? Blindingly beautiful colours and flavours? The possibilities seem endless, because they are. The way back is gone, shrouded by smoke, but the way forward could go on for an eternity, and splits into so many different directions, it’s often impossible to see which way is the right way. It’d be easier just to close our eyes and point: Eenie-meenie-miney-mo…

What if we don’t like what we find? What if it’s lesser than what we left? It’s possible that the great unknown isn’t so lovely after all, and once we reach the top of the mountain, the grass on the other side has dried and withered away, and only a barren wasteland lies in its wake.

But the worst prospect is finding nothing at all: When we take that first step, that giant leap into the unknown, our foot could fall into darkness, and we’d tumble, tumble into black until it closes its mouth and swallows the soul. There is no light, no return. But still we hope.

Hope… If we find a fast-flowing river, we look for a boat. If the tunnel hits a dead end, we search for a crack. If we find a locked door, we look for a latch. But the cracks are sealed. The wall is high. The door is shut. There is no boat. Searching for the light at the end of the tunnel is the only thing that keeps it from collapsing on our backs. Hope allows us to maintain our dignity in the face of all odds, and keeps us pressing through the darkness, regardless of whether or not anything is there.

So, we search. And search, and search, and search…

We keep searching. As long as we keep finding things to search for, we search.

Author: shaunmendum

I am a professional dancer, and aspiring choreographer and writer. I love the freedom to create entire worlds in my head, and to give them life on paper.

1 thought on “An Excerpt of My Own”

  1. Shaun, I love what I’ve read and I don’t read alot. It left me wanting more! You must let me know when it comes out and obsolutly must sign it for me (Aunties rights) I am so proud of all of your talents. Love you lots Auntie Donna

    Like

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