I’ve been dancing with a new character – a brave, but unreliable narrator. The story was born after a week of tending to the concept of observer of self.
I sat down this morning to capture the moment when the hero discovers that the story he has been telling himself isn’t the Truth. The wolves he’d been keeping at bay were never really there. The prickly exterior he was working so hard to keep polished was, in fact, shielding a soft and tender center.
The reward, of course – which comes in any satisfying story – is that within the juicy center hides an inner strength yet to be revealed. The game is up, the wolves can go home, and the hero goes back to playing Words With Friends … or whatever it is that heroes do during the off season.
When you are already in Detroit, you don’t have to take a bus to get there. – Ram Dass