it’s 2 AM and I meant to go to sleep a bit ago but I’ve been reading Kristin Cashore’s blog since I’ve just finished re-reading all of her books (it took me less than a week, which proves I’ve not lost the ability to read quickly, obviously, and a stupid thing to worry about, but nonetheless) and I’ve got so many things to say about them and her but it’s rather late and I’m tired and full of!!! promise? hope, maybe. I’d forgotten how well a book could do that for me. I’ve been very afraid of never reading in the same way ever again, but reading these (for about the fifth time) I’ve realized that of course I still love books just as well as I did and they still love me back, and it’s very heartening, and a huge comfort. I’m very afraid, still, to love them so much, and want so much to write my own, because while I’ll agree that probably everyone talks as much in their head as I do, I don’t know that it’s everyone who narrates everything, or invents so many conversations and situations in different rooms with people they’ve never met or heard of, and uses them as a way to relax and pull back from the stresses of their life, and maybe to muddle through problems or emotions they’ve not gotten a proper look at. and even if it is, even if I’m not at all unique in any aspect of myself, even if there are a thousand people who are cleverer or quicker or more generous or better at managing their time, even if every person I ever meet from this day forward is better at whatever thing it is, in my moment of meeting them, I’m wishing to be better at—it doesn’t matter, because I’ve decided, and I’ve told myself, and my heart, that I want to write, that I love to write, and I do, and I will. and if it takes forever for the fear to leave me, of if it never does, and only retreats far enough to allow me the room to do again what I used to in order to keep it at bay, then that’s fine. I can live with that. I can live with anything, so long as I remember to love and trust myself. so long as I remember to allow myself the things I’ve chosen, and want, and adore, and need. I am big enough to carry my fear and my faith. I am big enough to hold within me everything I need to hold and still be seen, by those who love and know me, as strong and smart and good, and capable. above everything capable, and a writer.