Here are some words. Are you reading them? Is anyone? Do they exist if human eyes never see them?
I pour my heart and soul into these stories. Liquid vulnerability is my ink. Something deeper than dedication is my pen.
I’m not sure I myself would exist without my stories. I would be someone else, and my hobbies would be hot rods and bird watching instead of writing (because I’d get to see a lot of birds that way). But here in this timeline, I like to write and tell stories.
As a story writer, my imagination is on constant overflow. Throughout the day, I imagine things everywhere, sometimes about a story or sometimes about being on the bridge of the Enterprise, but I daydream every chance I get.
Inspiration is an unbridled companion that buzzes in my ear every time I order coffee or see a bird or walk down the street. My characters are with me too, camping in the depths of my mind, hearing my thoughts and feeding off my emotions. They each have a past, hidden desires and ambitions, minds of their own. They’ll often guide my stories more than any plot line I try to lay out.
Then I make them real on paper, and they have presence in the physical universe.
Stories shape ideas and possibilities into a sequence of events. They mold ethereal thoughts into a cohesive form with a beginning, middle, and end. A story can be communicated in its entirety.
All of a sudden these imaginary characters, their trials and tribulations, can be implanted into the mind of another person. Not everything I write, I would want to share, but when I do write something that everyone should get a chance to read because oh my gosh what a great story!? Whoa. Not only do I hope people read it, I hope they gain some level of enjoyment from it, even if it excites them into a frenzy, which I’m sure happens all the time.
Regardless of how it comes out, and how many people ever read it, the story exists. I told it. I wrote it and put it out there.
What if nobody ever reads it?
What if the only legacy of the stories is the storyteller?
As part of history I am a storyteller, of stories that never would have existed had I not.
I am other things as well, but I have created stories and shared them with others. They come from my daily existence, not just from 11pm to 1am while the kids are asleep. Being a storyteller is in me every moment.
We each influence our own little universe as part of the larger whole. Within your universe, you are a storyteller. You think like one, write like one, speak like one. You may as well be a duck.
However many people lay their eyes on your work, the universe will always remember you as a storyteller, a sparkle in the dim mist of reality.