sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2016/02/the-exhibition-writing.html
Annie was sipping her mug of tea while flipping through the TV channels when she saw a tablet fly across the room before bouncing into a pile of pillows. "Those are expensive, Pet," she started loudly, turning to look at Sammy, angrily slumped back against the couch. Softening her tone, Annie continued. "Pick it up and bring it to me, Pet."
Sammy huffed and stomp walked on her knees over to the pillows and pulled the tablet out. She then did the same frustrated clomping back to the couch, and held it up for Annie to take.
"No, Pet. Come up here and lie down next to me." Sammy did so, stretching out on the couch to rest her head on Annie's thighs. "Hold still," Annie said as she sat her mug down on Sammy's ear, muffling the sounds she heard. Annie flipped the tablet around a few times, and turned the screen on and off. "It looks like it works fine, still. There's a new ding here, and it looks like you added a scratch down here at the bottom of the screen, but nothing too dire." She sat the tablet down and picked up her tea. "Do you want to tell me why you're so upset, Sammy?" She took a sip, and when Sammy did nothing to fill the pause, she gently combed Sammy's hair with her fingers. "Is it something I did, Pet?"
Sammy jolted around to try and look up, but Annie firmly held Sammy's head down against her thigh. "No! Nothing like that! It's just..."
"The writing," Annie responded.
"It doesn't work anymore!" Sammy spat out as she tried to stay and calm and not start crying. "I put words together, but they feel wrong, and like the characters are being danced around to do what I want them to do, instead of like what they should be doing themselves. It's all just so much garbage, and I hate that everything that comes out feels like I'm letting everyone down."
Annie could feel Sammy shaking against her side, and continued to calmly comb her hair. "Shhh, you're not letting me down. Of all the things you could ever do or think of, you will never let me down. You're my delightful pet, and I love you." She could hear Sammy sobbing into her thigh. "I know you don't want me to read things until they're done, but maybe fresh perspective could help you unstick it?"
"No, because they're either done, or they don't exist yet."
"Wait, you don't have any drafts?"
"None that I save. It used to just come out. I'd sit down with the cloud of ideas, and they'd tell me the words to use and it would be finished. Now, the ideas are still there, but they don't tell me the words anymore. It's just flashes of the scenes, repeating over and over again, and I'm left trying to make the words up on my own. I don't know how to do it anymore." Sammy sat back and gripped her head with her hands. "I feel so broken, like the last thing i could do isn't something I can do anymore."
"Sammy," Annie started as she wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close. "You're not broken, and pushing yourself so hard isn't going to change things. You can't order your brain to do things and then get mad when they don't. I order you to do all sorts of things, like 'don't throw expensive electron devices around like frisbees,' and when you flip one past me, I don't get mad at you. I give you a hug. Give your brain a hug, and we'll see if that helps, ok?"
"But...but you were going to get mad at me today!"
"No, I was going to use my grown up voice to make you come close enough for me to tickle you until you again promised not to do that again. And then there would have been hugs. I just saw that you needed the hug faster."
"I...like hugs," Sammy said after a few moments, and Annie held her closer.
Some minutes passed as they hugged on the couch, until Sammy looked up at Annie. "What if I can't finish them?"
"Does it matter? I like reading them, but I'm biased to like things you do. The people online would probably be a bit sad, but they'll adapt and move on."
"What about the characters?"
"What about them?"
"If there's no finish, then what happens to them?"
"They go back to the some mythical 'land of ideas', I guess. But even if you do finish the stories, they're still there for you to do more with later. You can always make new stories. Fill in some gaps or something."
"Do you think they mind?"
"Ok, no more abstract philosophy books for you, Pet. I'm starting to get a headache from all this talk. And no, I don't think they would mind at all. If they're happy in the stories we see them in, doesn't it make sense that they'd be happy in the stories we don't see them in?"
"I guess. I just don't want to disappoint anyone."
"I love you, Pet, and I'm sure they love you just as much."
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