Struggle

memoryscreen

I struggle.

It’s NaNoWriMo — National Novel Writing Month — and the stories that once flowed are blocked, depressed from the whispers in the world of the coming end times. I see the denial of science and the changing climate, which will be the demise of the human race. I am dumb-founded of the support of a mobster leader whose corruption knows no bounds — where bribery and nepotism scheme to enrich the already rich, creating an undemocratic government with a ruler like other corrupt dictators.

I see no reason to tell stories; they will vanish in the dust of what’s left of a planet we call earth.

So, to start this year I had to place those thoughts in note left from the past and found by survivors of the end times. It is my only hope, and my only way to get over this deep fear for our country and our world.

The note, which my main character found in my first chapter:

Dear Reader,

The wildfires of the south have now inundated the northwest of the continent. We need to leave. We’ll barricade the front of our little underground home here on the mountain so the flames don’t reach the seeds we’ve carefully saved for you, the future of humanity, should anyone survive the chaos that has overcome our small and only planet.

We may not even be able to escape; the interior cities are overcrowded with our country’s own coastal refugees, and we have no where to run, but we will try. We were not experts in living on our own in a wilderness, but we could save these seeds, our gift to you to re-seed and begin anew, should the environment remain somewhat hospitable. The storms ravaged us, the heat enveloped us, the cold winters almost killed us, and the only safe place was underground. On the far wall is a map with the locations of others in our small community who have also found ways to save what once was, be it books or photographs or art or seeds.

The greed of those in power, with their bribery and nepotism, stole the lives of millions with their blind resistance to science, to their bold corruption and forced exclusions. We survived together in spite of that cruel mob.

There is only one important message: work together— no matter your color, race, religion, gender, preferences— we are all human, and the only humans who have ever survived were those who joined together.To remain human, be in community with one another. I am because we are. That is the one truth.

So I greet you:

Mitakuye Oyasin: we are all related.

Sawubona: I see you; you are important to me, and I value you. I accept you for who you are and you are a part of me. I see you as you are.

Shiboka: I exist for you.

Go and come back,

~ Rae of the Coulee

And we walk with love, and we talk in peace,

And we know that we aren’t alone;

And the joy we share as we gather there,

All together, we have grown.

And now, knowing that someone survived because of their accepting, social, and communal spirit, I can write my novel, inspired by the greetings of cultures that continue to survive because of their enduring spirit of community.

If you are writing for NaNoWriMo: just start. Start anywhere in your novel — let go of your inner editor and naysayer and just write every day, 1,667 words for 30 days to a total of 50,000 words. Edit and revise later: Just Write!

juststart.nanowrimo

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