I’ve Lost My Voice

No, not my physical voice. That inner voice that has kept weaving phrases and ideas into stories that express the parts of me that nobody talks about. The intricate web of characters, complex and flawed, have stopped actively pushing me to share their inner thoughts, their wants, their desires. The stories of the Lattimer brothers, Jackson Kincade, Nick Latham, Colby Yates, Lukas Johnson and more are all there, all still sitting with a blinking cursor after the last line typed. But the words won’t come.

I’ve tried to continue their stories. I’ve tried to listen to new ones. They’re not quiet. I just lost the ability to translate them into words that make me “feel”. And if I can’t feel it, nobody else will either. I don’t know how to get it back. All of the books released so far, were all written long ago and just needed tweaking and proofreading. All of the new stories are only partially done and I need to finish them instead of just editing them. Trey’s story in particular, I have re-started, stopped, erased and started again at least 20 times. But, each time, it’s not my book. It not my voice. It’s forced, difficult to pick up the story line and carry on. I know where they’re supposed to go. I know the whole story. But the words don’t fit together anymore. They don’t flow into those phrases and sentences and make you feel what they’re feeling. And without that, it’s not right.

I’ve tried new stories and they won’t come at all. It’s like my imagination just got tired of waiting on me to find it again and decided to hop over to Mars for the duration. I’m concerned that it won’t come back. But more than that, I’m just sad.

I’ve lost my voice.