On the Edge of the Cliff

Clouds hung in the sky, a shade of indigo that made the last bit of daylight shy away.

She sat on the edge of the cliff, as always, and breathed in. Air flowed smoothly into her lungs. Finally, a place to sit and think.

She had come here many times before over the last ten years of her life. When nothing but nature surrounded her, she could take an objective look at the world of man, and her very small place in it.

The whole earth seemed to shift when her life did. It was as if she couldn't transition to a new stage without dragging every detail of life behind her. What was the point of braving the transition unless something good came of it--not for her sake, but for the sake of something more?

She told herself that everyone wants to live for something outside of themselves. Then, she reminded herself that they actually can. The thing worth loving that much would not exactly be what they expected. It would seem solid and tangible at some times, ephemeral and frustratingly translucent at others.

 Maybe that was why she liked the open air and the scenery so much. She couldn't have thought of anything so beautiful if she were the greatest artist in the world. There was something outside her, greater than her, encompassing her whether or not she could imagine a better life than the one she lived now.

The answer to "why am I here?" was ephemeral and frustratingly translucent at the moment, but she had seen the solid side before, and joyed in the knowledge that she would see it again.

A song of new colors and heavyhearted hope.

Watercolor
by Jaimie Krycho

May 5, 2010

v. 1
The creation of a new world
Is coming into bloom
One palette of color fading
Delicate, dissolving painting

Who can keep a dream so closely?
It's a paltry, faithless thing
Just like springtime speeding past,
Miss the landscape driving fast.

And I
Pray you open up the sky--
There's a permanence in sunset
That helps me say goodbye!

Chorus
They're watercolors, all of them--
I'm terrified to tear the page away
There's passion and there's providence
And fire burning in my soul
Without these colors, how can I be whole?

v. 2
Introduction to a new home
Holds echoes of the lost
Wander through the silent hallways
They will be abandoned always

Then there's sunshine in the open
Fields of yellow, purple, gold
Little buds and bright blue water
Given to your princess-daughter!

And I
Pray you break the rule of time
Lock away the chest of yearning
Let the jewel of life be mine!

Chorus . . . 

Worthy Promo for Stephen

Dear reader, 

I have a friend named Stephen Carradini. He is a talented writer, a good friend of my husband, and a very cool person to know.

I am writing you this letter because I don't usually promote sites, but I'm promoting this one!

* Have you every been bugged by the utter cheesiness of Christian art, writing, etc? 

* Did you agree with my earlier article The Flannery Factor? 

* Are you a temperamental artist?

* Are you alive?

As a favor to me--and to Stephen, of course--check out "Gospelized." It won't be a waste of time, I promise. Subscribe to the RSS feed and/or drop Stephen and comment. And if you haven't clicked the link to "Gospelized" yet, I cannot post it seventy times seven times, so I'm going to stop forgiving you at  five...

Happy Mail

I received my first read-and-returned manuscript today! My stomach jumped when I saw my SASE (self-addressed stamped envelope) in the mailbox.

Enclosed was the first story I wrote this semester--a romance called Buying Her Back for an issue of Woman's World Weekly.

It was a rejection letter, but it had writing all over it. That's a very good thing. If you receive a rejection with nothing accompanying, it's said and done. However, the assistant fiction editor wrote me personal notes, including "If you want to re-write it I'll be glad to take a 2nd look--no promises though, as all stories must receive final approval from my editor in chief."

 That is so exciting, and you can bet I feel pretty honored! My professor said none of his students have ever gotten back detailed notes and edits from Woman's World. 

I've recently learned that some people dislike me for my recent successes. It's really unsettling. The only time I talk about my stuff in class is when Mel entreats me to. Apparently, Mel's done it too often, and it's ticking someone off.

I recognize that it's a truly hard thing to rejoice with someone without comparing yourself to them. I struggle with that. As the recipient of negative reactions, I'm acutely aware of how perfidious jealousy can be. I hope I keep that in mind next time the green-eyed monster tempts me.

*sigh* I'm in a melancholy mood. I think I'm tired, so I'm going to go read my nerd material now, aka the latest issue of Fantasy & Science Fiction.