In Alien Hands: Meeting Merle

A/N: passion and writing for myself

Passion is a fickle thing. I started this story over 2 years ago for a single reason: to write down what i dreamt about. What filled my mind to help me escape the pain i felt in the world. I imagined myself a world where i was free from problems, stress, and the depression that we all call real life. I did it to tell someone, anyone, what i did when i wanted away from it all.

When my story picked up in popularity, it was great. I kept writing, enjoying the comments of people just a little bit like me. People who didn't think i was a freak for writing about this stuff. People who liked it as much as i did.

But, over time, those same people scared me. I wanted to make them happy so much that i changed my story. I took away everything that I wanted to happen and wrote it like i thought they wanted it to go. All the conflict was bled out of my story drop by drop. It wasn't their fault in the least, it was mine. In trying to make everyone happy, i took my own happiness away. I took the joy out of my own writing. I drained it of every last drop and began to hate it. Meeting Merle wasn't about my daydreams anymore. It was about making other people happy, no matter how much I dreaded it.

Then, i started my novel. A story written by me without worrying about what other people thought. A story that made me feel strong, made me feel free, and made me happy. Meeting Merle fell by the wayside. It was drowned by the joy this story brought me and by the skills it taught me. It was drowned by a story that meant something to me.

This series had meaning when i started it. It was supposed to be about joy, freedom (in the most unconventional of places) and empathy. It was supposed to put readers in the place of an animal in a way A Dog's Life Never could. It was supposed to suspend the disbelief in all of us that allowed us to justify cruelty, unfairness, and the way some animals are treated. At the same time, it was supposed to let us to see the peace, joy, and freedom we could have if we let ourselves.

I failed at that. Every negative comment (even if it wasn't meant to be negative) struck fear into me and made me change my story. Suggestions, predictions, etc. that didn't line up with he story plan made me change the whole story.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I haven't written in months, I'm sorry I couldn't make everyone happy, and I'm so, so, sorry that i didn't write the story the way it was meant to.

I don't know if I can keep writing this story. I feel like a robot making something i was programmed to make. I don't feel creative, I'm not doing what i want to do with this story. My only hope Is to rewrite the whole thing, with what i had in mind, but I don't Think you want that. I don't know if you want Holli to struggle just a little bit more. To learn slower, or for Merle to work harder. I don't know if you want her to be more flawed, or to learn along the way.

This is your call. I can finish the story as it is now, or i can start over and write it like i had imagined.