Every secret of a writer’s soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind, is written large in his works.”
I tend with each passing day to believe this.
All those facets to storytelling—to writing—plot, characterization, description, theme….all but variations on the explication of one’s heart and soul. No matter the form—novel, short story, poem—even the musings of a blog like this—all at its essence some manner of veracity Even in a work of fiction—maybe especially then.
My words my truth, do you remember the first day I opened these pages of my soul to your searching eyes? Those eyes and this story so brimming with possibility and hope. I want you to know, dear reader, that those words I professed then--those truths--remain true to this day--like any story even if it be forsaken, its pages unopened and collecting dust, do not its words once written, endure?
One year in high school, submissions were solicited for a time capsule, summative and representative words which would in 50 maybe 'twas 100 years' time be opened to reveal to whosever eyes clues about what things were like at our school all those decades previous. Mine was chosen. Things doubtless changed there in all that time, people I knew doubtless changed but my words so preserved, resolute and fixed.
So too here my clues to you, dear reader, and yes I do mean you. If you shall read this no matter just when, know I am speaking unequivocally to you. Those words set down as a promise those years ago. Once written, inviolate, for the deepest truths adhere no revision but only ingrain more indelibly upon the page. Those words my story, my story my truth, and for you, for those eyes to fall once more upon them, do they await, dear reader, and only for you, no matter the years and occurrences between. Open the pages, love, dust them off, should ever you sojourn this way again. You shall find in them no hint of recrimination for your absence, they shall open willingly and lovingly to your touch. A story resuming, for its words, its truth, its promise, has known no end~