I started this story in 2004 and stumbled on it the other day when I was moving files from my dead laptop drive to my shiny-new-full-of-promise laptop. When I wrote it, my boys were five and nearly two years old. It put me right back there: exhausted, fed up, frustrated, and loving them too much.
I had two people say I need to do something with the story. The underlying weird “power” she discovers she has is one I wondered about all my life. Wouldn’t it be cool if I could….
Yeah. It would.
“She just wanted more of a “say” in what happened in her life. She felt like an actor onstage being told what to do by a director that did not want her input and who kept changing the plot of the play every few minutes. On top of that this director seemed to enjoy watching her stagger about completely in the dark as to what would happen next.”
(c) JPPeranteau, Waiting for an Epiphany