As I sit with a cup of coffee, and my beloved friends (fears), to keep working on my new book, I wonder how dreams come true.
I stare at the manuscript (around 450 pages, A4 size, written from scratch and edited plus a good number of Arabic translation notes) as if I was staring at a tornado coming my way.
Admit it, girl: you´re scared. No, sir, I´m terrified. But I keep going. Terror cannot stop me – I´m a dancer, for Christ´s sake!
It seems like I´m drowning in an endless ocean – almost 500 pages of heartfelt text written by an amateur, like me; characters who rose from the dead, demanding I´d write them down, dialogues, events told in different voices, a series of causes and consequences I have to keep up and grow from.
I´m amazed at the candure and passion involved – here´s a child building the most beautiful sand castle – she trusts herself but, mostly, the castle.
Much work done, much more to accomplish.
Time keeps slipping through my fingers, professional and personal demands call me away from the writing space. The exterior world reminds me I am a dancer who lives off her dance work so move, girl, move! They say it and I repeat it like a well trained parrot.
The book gets annoyed every time I neglect it in order to work on my regular – peculiar – job.
I travel, constantly, for work. I teach private (on line) lessons on a daily basis; emails and logistics expect me to address them. Some times, I´m able to work on the book, almost undisturbed, and my mind plays tricks on me. It goes numb – out of fear, provocation, exhaustion, boredom -, slowing me down to the point that I start believing I´m a snail.
Having to accept my limitations: mortifying.
-I´m human, after all. – Surprise, surprise.
Yes, it definitely feels like I´m going down those pages – I can taste the salty water under my tonge. But I remind myself of the commitment – to myself – and I take one phrase, one word at a time.
-Come on´girl…don´t be dramatic.Why doubting yourself? You´ve accomplished harder things than this.You always make it. You CAN do this.- I whisper towards the emptiness. – Yes, I can. – I repeat, in my thoughts. – Can somebody hear me and nod, please?
It amazes me: the talent and the trust in that talent, against all odds. The amount of discipline, courage and persistence – I´d say obsession – to keep digging, and digging and digging and digging some more, until your bleeding hand touches the treasure ark.
Make no mistake – I´m running a marathon with no announced end. I have to keep running, and managing to keep breathing, until I cut the final line and reach the podium.
Believe me, I´ll get there. I´m crazy that way.