A Poor Substitute for the Real Thing

“I believe in these imaginations, because there’s nothing else for me to believe in.

“I want to believe in dragons and werewolves and the Baba Yaga.  I want to believe in Bigfoot and Area 51 and the Loch Ness Monster.  I want to believe that the dinosaurs aren’t extinct.  I want to believe in time travel and teleportation and jetpacks.  I want to believe in shapeshifters and talking cats.  I want to believe that there’s something more out there, something science missed.

“I want to believe that dreams can come true.  I want to believe that wishes can be granted.  I want to believe in miracles.  But… I can’t.  I know that this is all there is.  I know I say that I wish it was all true, but… I know better.  I know that if any of it was out there we’d have found it by now, and I know that if any of it’s out there it’s not going to happen to me.

“I know they say you can’t always get what you want.  I know that I don’t need any of these things to be true to keep on living.  So, why can’t just one be…?”


{The reason Believer has lied dormant for weeks, even months, is because I realized that characters and themes do not a story make.  I need a plot… and I have none.  And I have not been trying as hard as I need to to find one.}

{This afternoon I finished watching something that I started long ago and never completed.  It did not give me the answer to the question I am asking myself; it gave me the answer to questions I wasn’t asking.  And those answers reminded me why I loved the previous story I had written so much, and why I love this thing now.}

{I want to love Believer.  I want it to be worthy of being loved.  And right now…  I do not love it.  But I love what I know it could be, if I can only find out how to get from here to there.}


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