The Story That Waited

I think, as writers, we all have unfinished and abandoned stories that we never saw through to completion for a variety of reasons.

I know I have my fair share. There was one I wanted to discuss specifically, though.

I searched out the link to the poem above and was amazed to discover that it was originally published three years ago. So this idea is three years old.

Anyone who knows me will know I have a strong affection for epistolary stories. When I wrote the following poem, I intended it to be an integral part of the story.

Masterpiece of His Abuse

Or His Dark Muse – Dark Poetic Introduction/Excerpt for a Forthcoming Horror Story

So the bells toll

So all will know

His time has come

His will be done

As the moon rises

They lift their disguises

Dance until the dawn

Until hope is gone

No better tomorrow

Drown in the sorrow

He'll tear at your heart

His perfect work of art

You'll be his dark muse

Masterpiece of his abuse

Why It Didn't Come Together

When writing the poem, I was imagining it being written about the main antagonist of the story.

The idea was that the main protagonist moves into a house he either inherits from a distant relative or purchases at auction because, despite being in poor condition, it is a listed building that needs to be carefully refurbished and restored.

While looking through the belongings left behind in the basement or the loft, he comes across an old piece of writing, perhaps on parchment and written in ink.

It is the poem.

And it appears to have been written by a man named Erasmus, or perhaps it is written about him.

Although he initially dismisses it as some ridiculous old verse, it gnaws away at him, and eventually he decides to investigate.

I had envisioned him visiting the local library to research old newspapers and books about the house and about Erasmus, where he discovers rumours, scandals and whispered accusations. Erasmus was said to be something of a sadist who liked to experiment on women.

As the main character learns more about the man, strange things begin to happen, and he starts acting differently. Almost as though he is being infected by the legend of Erasmus.

He also starts seeing him.

That was as far as I got with planning out the plot.

The more I developed it, the more ambitious it became. I didn't just want to tell the story of a man uncovering the truth about Erasmus. I wanted the reader to discover it alongside him through poems, letters, newspaper archives and old journals, never entirely sure whether Erasmus was a real historical figure, a supernatural presence, or a projection of a mind slowly unravelling.

I wanted it to tackle all of that.

But after several attempts and brainstorming sessions, I gradually abandoned the project.

Why?

It wasn't because of the tough and dark themes. I have always relished the challenge of tackling the shadowy side of life and humanity.

On reflection, I think it was simply a far more complex concept than I was equipped to handle at the time.

One of my biggest concerns whenever I write is trying to get what is on the page as close as possible to what I see in my head. I know it is never really possible to achieve that perfectly, but I always try my best.

With this story, three years ago, although I loved pushing myself creatively, it was probably asking too much of me as a writer at that stage. My confidence was not quite as high as it is now. It felt like too mammoth a challenge.

Too many elements, too many time periods, and too many different forms.

Three years later, I think I finally have the confidence and technical understanding to tackle a story like this. The strange thing is that it has never really gone away. Every so often I find myself thinking about Erasmus, about the house, about the poem in the basement.

Perhaps some stories aren't abandoned at all.

Perhaps they simply wait until their writer is ready for them.

*

Thanks for reading!