...would make great comparison/description for my prospective adolescent lit novel (that I'm not writing) -- perhaps a character in a tumultuous relationship, hardhearted by the perpetual friction occurring, transforming all that is alive and healthy.
This thought popped in my head as I ran my fingers over the tops of my palms where I have one callus for each finger -- I sport them like medals of honor, tales of my survival at cross fit boot camp. I'm at this place where I'm not fit enough to get the gloves. That protective gear is for the athletes who have arrived at Olympian status. I cannot even do a pull up.
ANYWAY - I always think, where do author's get their inspiration for their creative comparisons? So I'll pocket this one away for a rainy day. You never know what can come from a simple idea.
This thought popped in my head as I ran my fingers over the tops of my palms where I have one callus for each finger -- I sport them like medals of honor, tales of my survival at cross fit boot camp. I'm at this place where I'm not fit enough to get the gloves. That protective gear is for the athletes who have arrived at Olympian status. I cannot even do a pull up.
ANYWAY - I always think, where do author's get their inspiration for their creative comparisons? So I'll pocket this one away for a rainy day. You never know what can come from a simple idea.
I think about this every now and then...inspiration. I often miss college where inspiration was forced yet my most beautiful work was created and showed no sign of the panic I felt in the beginning of its creation. With all the time left in my life and deadlines gone, where is the inspiration now; in a face at the bus stop, in a long quiet elevator ride with a stanger, or in the simplicity of a callus on the creator's own hand.
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