Onward through the impossible

The empty corridors of the archive are quiet. The windows are half open; the sea breeze makes the heavy drapes move. The waves come in even and heavy. It seems that they are repeating the same four words: “Onward through the impossible.” And then they are quiet, and then they come again and dash themselves on the sand: “Onward through the impossible.” And then they are quiet again.

I want to answer the waves: “Yes, onward, ever onward!”

— The Astronaut by Valentina Zhuravlyova

As I struggle once more to write a long story, this segment from the short story The Astronaut is a great call to arms.

I was recently listening to an interview with Chuck Wending¹. He talked about being lost in the “dark forrest of writing.”

What a great visual. I feel as if I just stepped into the forrest with my novel myself, and I’m already lost. Unable to find my way back.

Chuck also said that “there are no formulas” for writing, that “it doesn’t get easier” with time, and that “all writing advice is bullshit” (although just like bullshit sometimes it can fertilize.)

We’ll see if something sprouts from my manuscript. In the meantime, I’ll repeat to myself “onward through the impossible,” and keep writing one word at a time.