This has been a roller-coaster of a week. My post last Thursday stirred up a vast sea of long-buried emotions. It picked at wounds that I’d long ago shoved into the shadows of distant memory.
But that’s okay. Pain is an important part of life. Especially when, like me, you’re a writer.
I decided maybe a month after I left school that I wanted to write a story about, well, everything. I wanted to write my story. You see, I’m one of those people who believes that our stories – the things we’ve been through; the stuff we’ve seen – are not meant to be tucked away inside ourselves. They’re meant to be told.
It took a long time, but eventually this story had a title: The Existence of Us.
And so the story began.
But I wasn’t satisfied with the title and I’ve spent days racking my brain trying to decide on a new one. Until this morning, it came to me in the shower. (Where else, right?)
The new title is perfect. A glorious reflection of the story’s themes.
Love and the Sea and Everything In Between
LATSAEIB is a story of love and tragedy. It’s a story of self-discovery, of forgiveness, of loss. It’s a story that confronts depression and self-harm and suicide. It’s a vivid depiction of the wandering soul.
Here’s the synopsis:
College student Adam West is done with the constant ups and downs of life. Tired of being forced to simply exist, waiting for the low that always comes after a high, Adam decides to end the pain. But when he meets the enigma that is Liz, well, what could the harm be in embarking on one last adventure?
As I write this story, I expect to feel things. I expect it to hurt. I expect it to dig things up. (I spent last night writing in my bed fighting tears) But most of all, I pray that it will tell the story I want to tell.
Because Love and the Sea and Everything In Between is, at its core, a story of hope.