Sharing

I have discovered a problem with sharing, and it reminds me of the one thing that my editor taught me that has guided my writing above all else.

Eliminate the passive.

I have to let go of the passive voice. The most common word in my language. I can no longer use it.

To be.

To be means to let life happen to you.

I just got off the phone with Alex, who helped me through another difficult day. Every now and then you get lucky, and you find someone who already knew this. You find yourself in the care of an old soul. You find someone who just won’t let life happen to you, but who stands up and reminds you what you felt like as a child, light enough to be carried.

Believe me, I can ramble, I can definitely do awkward. I can do choppy. I can do weak.

When I struggle through difficulty on the road, I turn to alcohol and cigarettes and tiny scratches in my skin. But when I struggle at home, I turn to her. I lay down and submit, and I beg her to sit with me and build me back up. And for ten years she has yet to fail.

And when that stops working, I’m turning to Ed Adkins. True, he may not hold my hair when I vomit, but he looks wealthy enough to support my Riunite habit.