Drabble 100 – Fernweh

I honestly didn’t expect that I’d end up writing one hundred of these little stories. I started a blog because it’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re an aspiring writer, and short fiction is something I know. I’d been saving up a list of weird vocabulary words for no apparent reason, and after a whole bunch of angsting, I connected the two and this blog was born.

It’s never been about readership for me. Sure, it would be great if I had legions of loyal followers slavering for the next drabble, but that seems both unrealistic and unnecessary.

As a writer–as a person, really–I struggle a lot with legitimacy. It’s hard to convince myself that anything I do is valuable or meaningful. I told myself I couldn’t write a novel, so I did NaNoWriMo. I told myself I couldn’t write a blog, so I did this. Maybe constantly daring myself to do more isn’t the best way to prove that I can do things, but it’s worked.

I went back over all 100 posts last week because I’m putting together a little zine or chapbook of the ones I like best, and I found that, not only has my work markedly improved, but there are quite a few of these little stories I actually like. Each one encapsulates so many things–my mood at the moment of writing, a different idea of meaning, a tiny bit of fiction. I’ll never be satisfied with anything I make, but, in looking back, I’ve found that there’s a lot I do value there.

I don’t know how long I’ll keep this up for, but 100 drabbles is just a beginning.

Anyway, here’s one more.

FERNWEH

(n.) from German fern (far) and Weh (pain)

Wanderlust, a longing for far-off places.

Anika has said more that anyone that the grass is always greener on the other side. She told her brothers this as children. She tells it to her daughter now. You will want what you cannot have, and if by chance you get it, you will find it isn’t as good as you expected.

Still, she dreams of space, inky black and quiet. Without a suit, you’ll die in fifteen seconds. Without ambition, you die slowly, choking on every missed opportunity until you expire.

There is so much good right here, she thinks, but still so much more beyond that.