Fragmented Pictures and Stories

Sometimes I write stories that have no discernible ending or beginning. Those usually stem from dreams I have, or things I watch on TV. The wonderful “What Ifs?” that bring on so much inspiration. The stories start and sometimes they don’t end. They sit on my computer, waiting. Or, not waiting. Perhaps those stories are not meant to be told. They are just things that I have to get out of my system. Little building blocks or steps that guide me to the next story, which will have a discernible beginning and end.

I think that life is fragmented. I think that the only un-fragmented “films” or stories we see are our own. The ones from our own perspective. Our spouses and our children show us fragmented storylines of their own. We are not with them, in their consciences, every single moment.

So, what do we do? We make up the rest. We connect the storyboards with assumptions.

It is very hard to watch people you know suffer. Sometimes, on Facebook, I will catch a storyboard or two. The ones that stay with me are the tragic ones. The women in horrible marriages that they cannot seem to pull themselves out of. For a while, they will show their Facebook audience graphic, heartbreaking fragments of their lives. You read with bated breath, wondering what will happen next.

Usually, nothing good happens next. They stay in their situation. But again…what do we know? We are making our own “storyboard connections” in our head.

Here’s what is going on during this “storyboard gap” of mine. Or since I last updated this blog.

  • I am still wondering which way to go with Marta. Am I supposed to plug away and get it done? Maybe so. I even downloaded Scrivener to see if that would give me the push I need.
  • I wrote an ENTIRELY different novel/romance novel. It’s about love in the time of zombies. Told in three different times, but with the same characters. After the zombies, before the zombies, and if the zombies had never come at all. I have no intentions of publishing it.
  • I am so ready for Spring. I cannot tell you how bad. That, or some Vitamin D.
  • I am making peace with the extra four pounds that live on my frame. I am getting older. It is what it is. But I am eating healthier.
  • I traded my Wrangler in for a Ford Explorer. I miss my Wrangler and I love the Explorer, too. I thought the distinction would be neater than that.
  • Because Spring is coming, it is time to let my hair grow in, again. Humidity makes it crazy.

Well, that is all for now. Just thought I’d talk about life in fragments, and share some of mine with you.

Blue Winter Morning

Cyndia Rios-Myers

Previous Post Next Post

You Might Also Like

No Comments

Leave a Reply