Novels and paper cranes

9457895673_76beefb3b6_zMaking 1,000 paper cranes is like writing a novel. Or perhaps I can only say that embarking on writing a novel feels like embarking on making 1,000 paper cranes, because I’ve never written a novel, but I have made 1,000 paper cranes.

I made them out of sticky notes and napkins, candy wrappers and notebook paper, newspaper and party streamers, anything I could fold. Because, you see, when I was in tenth grade one of my dearest friends fell ill. I had heard the story about the little Japanese girl who had cancer because of the atomic bombs. She made 1,000 paper cranes and it earned her a wish. I think she dies at the end of the story, but I was ignoring that part when I decided that I would make 1,000 paper cranes, earn that wish, and then give the cranes and the wish to my ill friend.

In the end she didn’t really appreciate it. She didn’t remember the story, and she’d never folded a crane, so she didn’t get how 1,000 of them was a lot of work, but I digress,

Folding 1,000 of them felt the way starting on a novel feels. Crazy,

It feels like it will take forever, and people will laugh at you when you explain yourself, and you might laugh at yourself, but you want to anyway.

And even though my friend wasn’t that excited about my cranes I still now say I’ve folded 1,000 paper cranes. That’s a lot of cranes, and it makes me weirdly proud.

So I guess it’s time to start that novel.

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Filed under my own stories, Thoughts on writing

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