Long Live the King

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".The man on the street corner realizing that darkness was nearly upon him started shouting out his friends name. What reverberated back to him was his own voice as it echoed through the city streets. Pounding his right fist into his open left hand, he fought hard to recall a mental image of his friend, but his visual representation could not be conveyed or understood by those who attempted to assist him in his search. Out of politeness they asked the man on the corner to slowly describe his friend to them. But, alas, they never stayed long enough to hear his passionate words."

Estimated Reading Time: 25 Minutes

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When does a story begin? It's not when I sit down to write it—no, nothing as clear-cut as that. Instead, an idea pops into my head. I mull it over. I dismiss it. Reconsider it. I do this for several days, weeks. I don't consider plotlines; I think of the story in its entirety. Like smoke through a keyhole, it comes in and out of my thoughts, sometimes distracting me from other, more relevant conversations. It fights for a share of voice inside my head.

Then one day, unbidden, the story concept resurfaces with an excellent guide, the protagonist, who focuses on how the story should proceed. Although a developing character, there is an air of confidence within the principal's persona that I find irresistible. So I listen, and in the process, the leading character assures me that my answers will come over time. Trusting my guide, I no longer worry about story form, plotlines, twists, and turns yet to come. Instead, I put my faith in my protagonist, who urges me to "Start the damn story," So I begin.

Long Live the King

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